


delay (the deadliest form of denial)

by mondaynight



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Roommates, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:46:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 146,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23850283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mondaynight/pseuds/mondaynight
Summary: Hope Mikaelson enters her first year of college with a plan to major in business, following in her father's footsteps. On her first day of orientation, she meets the daughter of one of her father's biggest competitors: Josie Saltzman.However, Hope comes to realize that business competition means just one thing. She can't be friends with Josie. Ever.Or,the college roommate AU.
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson/Josie Saltzman
Comments: 509
Kudos: 1331





	1. Chapter 1

It's past nightfall when Hope Mikaelson decides to wander into the university’s quad area. She begins to walk faster when she realizes that she's late for orientation. Hope knows that if she doesn't show up in the next five minutes, her friends will surely kill her. 

She opens up the door of the auditorium and tries to slide in without being seen. She fails miserably, and her face flushes in embarrassment when the door makes a noisy creaking sound. The large crowd inside hushes silent, every single head turning back to stare at her. Or at least, that’s what it feels like to Hope. 

It also appears that she’s interrupted the instructional aid, who most definitely had been the only person speaking before Hope had come in. She quickly looks around for her friend group, only to find them already staring at her from the left side of the room with irritated expressions. Hope knows _that_ look when she sees it so she tries to utter an apology but her best friend Maya quickly cuts her off. 

"There you are. Where have you been?" Maya greets her, the annoyance obvious in her voice.

"Well, look, I—" Hope gets cut off again, but this time it's by her best friend Sam. 

"Oh my god, you didn't eat any more of that ice cream, did you?" Sam throws a side jab at her and Hope rolls her eyes.

"I knew I never should've told you I was lactose intolerant." Hope's voice turns into a whisper when she realizes that the speaker is _still_ talking. Her friends smile wickedly at her but she continues and decides to change the subject, "Anyways, what's happened so far?" 

"Nothing much, that boring lady is still talking and it's been an hour,” Maya complains and Hope regrets even showing up. Do Mikaelsons even go to orientation? Just because she's a freshman doesn't mean she has to suffer through this. The woman finally stops talking after a few more minutes. 

"Okay now that I've introduced you to what our school is all about, we'll pass out guides and begin the tour around campus for those of you that haven’t looked around yet," the crowd groans but the woman takes it as encouragement and starts to hand out informational pamphlets to the students.

"I honestly have no idea why we're doing any of this. I mean, we already know this school because of our families. We should ditch," Ethan says and Hope knows it's easy to agree with him.

"Fine, you're right," Hope relents, knowing that the good image she is trying to keep up will eventually fall away anyways. The group moves toward the door while the rest of the incoming freshmen are still distracted by the aid's instructions. 

As Hope opens the door, she comes into full contact with another body. She flinches, taking a step back. Her right arm begins to ache as she feels pain shoot up her hand. She hears one of her friends gasp behind her but doesn't fully acknowledge who it came from. 

Hope eventually gathers the will to look up. Her blue eyes meet brown ones and Hope's breath catches. She wonders if this is what first sight means. The girl facing Hope furrows her eyebrows with confusion or maybe something else, Hope can’t exactly tell. She fails to notice the tall blonde standing next to the brown-haired girl. As a feeling of vulnerability spreads through Hope's body, but she recovers. 

"Watch it," she grits out rudely, despite the fact that the other girl hasn’t done anything to deserve it or that it was all clearly an accident. But of course, Hope can’t help retreating back to old roots. She can practically feel the smirks growing on her friends' faces, even with her back turned to them. 

The hostility seems to register in her mind and Hope watches as the brunette's expression turns from confusion to one of utter vice. 

"Oh, I'm _so_ scared," the girl deadpans. Hope scowls, wondering why the girl isn't intimidated yet. Instead, her voice matches the exact attitude of Hope's own. Hope can't seem to comprehend how the girl so effortlessly mirrors Hope's kind of behavior. It's inviting, but utterly discomforting. 

Hope's eyebrows pull down and her face is burning. A sense of unease passes throughout her, once and then again. Her mouth is itching to respond, but the blonde nearby does before she can. 

"It's not worth it Josie, we're already late," the blonde girl next to her shakes her head, and Hope glances at the taller girl but finds herself blinking back to _Josie_? Hope hears Maya mocking the blonde from behind her and glances back to her friends.

Why do they all look like that?

Ethan, Maya, and Sam all obviously recognize the two girls in front of them, and Sebastian has the weirdest look on his face. Hope follows his line of sight and discovers the blonde girl, again. Hope rolls her eyes. This moment has gone on for too long.

Hope probes further and walks past the brown-eyed girl, brushing their shoulders. Although they had barely touched for more than a second, Hope feels it like a burn. She even swears that she can feel the other girl look back, but Hope's steps are strong and persistent. She couldn't turn back if she wanted to. 

The group follows after Hope and when the door shuts behind them, Hope turns around. 

"Who the _hell_ was that?" Hope doesn't care to be loud, her anger making her foolish.

"Those were the Saltzman twins..." Sam trails off like Hope should know what she's implying.

"As in Saltzman? Alaric Saltzman?" 

Sam simply nods and the color in Hope's face drains. Her heart pounds obnoxiously in her chest, but her friends don't see through her facade. They can't feel the way that her veins restrict, suffocating her. And they definitely can't feel the feeling of nostalgia that sets in, present with the memories of her father.

"What's the big deal?" Ethan mumbles dumbly in the background.

"He is _only_ one of my father's biggest competitors..." Hope's voice is laced with venom and Ethan visibly winces. She corrects herself a second later, catching her mistake. “ _Was_.” 

In the silence, Hope plays to her image. She has to maintain an air of power and superiority, "Whatever, it's clear that they don't belong here. Like, who even shows up late to orientation?" Hope chuckles darkly and turns back to her friends, all of whom are surprised at the sudden change from just a few minutes ago. 

"I mean, I'm pretty sure you wer—" Sam starts but Sebastian is quick to cut her off. 

"How about we head back inside? We still have a lot to learn and we move into our dorms in just a few weeks," the voice of reason becomes thick in Sebastian's tone and the majority of the group agrees with a simple nod. Hope is still spaced out.

"Hope?" Sebastian lays a hand on the young Mikaelson's arm.

She recoils away but realizes herself, "Sorry, my arm still hurts." Sebastian waves it off and gives her a knowing smile.

The rest of her friends are not as forgiving. "Wow, Saltzman got you good, didn't she?" 

Hope flips Maya off and the group gathers to head back inside, where the pamphlets are still being passed out. How many incoming students could there really be? Does anyone know what take one and pass it down means? 

The rest of the orientation is extremely boring to Hope, but she tries to have fun anyways. Although the group icebreakers are not _it_ , walking around the campus feels nice. Though, she is more than familiar with the school, as most of the students here are. 

The students at this school either came because of their parents or transferred from a different school. The area was recognizable and Hope just knew she could get used to this. 

It's now fairly past midnight and students are beginning to file off the campus. There is an afterparty at one of the new student's apartments, but Hope doesn't fully remember the name. 

"We're still going to that party, right?" Ethan whispers, although no adults are really around. 

"Have you not been here for the past hour? It's all anyone's talking about," Maya ridicules him, but she nods nonetheless. 

"How are we gonna get there?" Sebastian asks and the rest of the group pauses when they realize that they don't actually have a ride. 

"Well, looks like we aren't going..." Hope trails off and starts to head in one direction, but Sam pulls her back.

"Not so fast. I know you like to be a loner but you're not getting away with it this time," Sam says very sternly, glaring at Hope. Hope grows annoyed, feeling properly scolded, but she stops trying to make excuses. Her friend is right, although she'd never admit so. 

"How far away are we?" Hope asks and her friends begin to pull out their phones.

"Twenty-two-minute drive. There is no way in hell I am walking and ruining these shoes," Maya complains and her face turns into a frown. 

"You'll be fine, they aren't _that_ nice anyways," Sam says next to Maya. Hope rolls her eyes, yet again, at her friends' banter. 

They all begin to move towards the sidewalk and absolutely _no_ _one_ misses it when Maya whispers to her brother, "You said they looked good!" She slaps him on the back, and Hope pretends she isn't paying attention.

"Let's just carpool. A lot of other people are going." Sebastian suggests, and Hope agrees with that. They wander around campus looking for groups to join and when they finally do find one, Hope tries to run away.

"No, no, no. _Hell_ no." Hope backs away with heavy embarrassment.

"Oh my god, stop it, Hope. You're embarrassing us!" Sam whispers forcefully into Hope's left ear and puts her arm around Hope's back with a death grip. Hope's group has bumped into the Saltzman twins who are both chatting with Landon Kirby, Rafael Waithe, Penelope Park, and Milton Greasley. 

"Hey, are you guys going to that party?" Sam, the most polite out of Hope's whole group, speaks and then releases her hold on Hope. Hope is buzzing with shame and knew they should've just walked. _Anything_ is better than asking. 

"There goes my dignity," Hope murmurs, and Sam acts like she can't hear her. Hope locks eyes with a certain brunette. Her heart starts to beat fast and Hope is suddenly thankful for the loud noise of the music in the quad area. If not for that, she’s sure everyone would be able to hear her traitorous heart. 

"Yeah, do you guys need a ride?" Milton Greasley questions and Hope nods at him, glad that the group didn't have to outright ask them. Her friends appreciates Milton's kindness and he soon adds, “You guys can come, but we only have one car so we're gonna have to smush."

Milton looks back and finds that his friends aren't ultimately happy with him. He shrugs at them and waits for the reply of Sam.

"That's completely fine. Thank you _so_ much!" Sam becomes dramatic, but Hope is glad because that means no one else has to say it. Sebastian tries his best at smiling, but it comes out crooked. Hope cringes. Are they really that bad at being friendly? However, Hope isn't entirely excused herself. 

"That's very kind of you guys," Hope tries, but her words come out forceful and awkward. Ethan laughs behind her. She kicks him from behind, and now her smile is real. 

She finds enjoyment in the "Ow!" that comes from Ethan's mouth. 

Both groups start to move towards a car, led by Milton. The car is quite nice, and Hope is glad that the inside of it isn't a complete mess. The smell of the car is intoxicating and Hope can't resist sucking in full breaths. The smell drowns her skin and animates her senses. This _is_ Milton's car, right? 

As the group begins to tumble into the backseats of the car, she finds that the brown-haired Saltzman is in the driver seat. She quickly recalls that her name is Josie, from what the blonde had said. 

"Wow, this is completely illegal," Josie says as she looks back at the estimated ten people in the car. 

"It isn't if you know how to drive and _not_ kill us."

It comes out of Hope's mouth before she can stop it. When it comes to situations like this, Hope's ability to act impulse and stupid is unwavering. However, it seems that Josie is just as impulsive. 

"I'm sorry, did you still need that ride?" Josie says but Hope knows it _isn't_ a question. The car becomes silent and no one makes a move.

Hope makes a mental note as to what had started their excessive banter. She knows her rudeness was uncalled for, but why is this still continuing? Realization comes in slow, exhausting waves. 

Humiliation has never looked good on the Mikaelson heir, and Hope finds a way to get herself out of the mess she created quickly. God, she really needs to stop. But with the Saltzman twin, counters seem effortless and arguments seem easy. Hope learns that talking has never been so fun. 

"Actually, you're right! I prefer to walk," Hope's fake enthusiasm floats within the air and she makes a move to unbuckle her seatbelt. Josie naughtily smirks at Hope, as if she's won their little fight. Hope tries to jump over Sebastian, who's sitting to the left of her when an arm around her waist pulls her back. She sees that it's Maya, and Hope simply glares at her. 

"You're both being childish. This started because you bumped into each other at the door?" Josie's sister admonishes them and Hope wants to jump at her for calling her childish.

"To be fair—" Josie tries to speak but is cut off in no time.

"My arm still hurts!" Hope yells pathetically and wants to drown herself for admitting such a weakness.

"Well, I apologize for you being so weak. Wow... a Mikaelson..." Josie snarks, a fire in her eyes that Hope recognizes. One that Hope has seen in her own. Josie's sentence is nothing more than a tease but it hits close to home and Hope turns to stone. 

Hope tries to speak another sentence into existence but the music in the car, in a split second, gets turned up to max volume. The only thing Hope can even do is beam a death stare at Josie through the rear-view mirror. As a response, Josie shakes her head and blankly laughs. Hope sees the laugh more than she hears it. 

The auburn-headed girl swallows and the bitterness in her mouth makes her come to terms with where she is. She can't _believe_ she just pulled that, furthermore in front of all her friends. What is going on with her?

She knows she'll have to apologize later. Reality hits hard and Hope can't acknowledge the fact that she's fighting with a girl she met only hours ago. Her anger is completely unjustified, but the heat of fighting is too exhilarating and Hope loves to play with fire. 

Hope can't help but burn in it. This is the most fun she's had in a while, ever since... _No_. 

In the meanwhile, the rest of the people in the car are wondering what exactly just happened. Hope can't hear Sam and Maya's conversation, as she's turned away in annoyance.

"Didn't they just meet?" Maya's voice is a whisper and her eyes are pleading for answers.

"Well, _shit_ ," Sam smirks, knowing all too well. 

The drive to the party is fast and Hope is the first one out of the car. She doesn't even wait up for her friends, much less leave the door open for them. 

Two hours in, Hope's friends are already stupidly drunk and Hope's about three drinks from joining them. Maya and Hope had entered into a beer pong tournament and were doing rather good for having only played together once or twice. Hope is puzzled as to how Maya's so wasted since they hadn't lost a game and Hope's been drinking every cup. Maya thought it was _only_ fair because of the incident Hope had put them all through in the car earlier. 

The pair wins yet another game, and now they only have one team left to beat before they win the whole tournament. Hope wants to go home already and her longing furthers when Maya unintelligently whispers in Hope's ear, "What do we win?" 

Hope is two seconds away from pulling Maya and herself out of the game when she's told who they're going against: Josie Saltzman and Penelope Park. 

Maya begins to set up the cups and Hope plays with the ping pong balls on the table. They finish setting up and Hope locks eyes with Josie across the room. Josie looks down and then to her friend Penelope, who Hope notices is already looking at the brown-eyed girl. On cue, Josie and Penelope together begin to walk up towards the table while simultaneously wearing grins.

The game soon begins and both teams are decidedly not talking. Although nothing is really at stake, Hope and Maya are taking it seriously. Maya sobers up in an instant when Hope gives her that look: _We can't lose_. Penelope and Josie are equally as concentrated and Hope wonders if Josie has said anything to Penelope. 

Whenever Hope sinks a ball in, Josie does as well. The same goes for Maya and Penelope. The suspense begins to settle in Hope's spine when she realizes that each team has only two cups left. It's Maya's turn and even though there's a lot of pressure on her, Hope gives her a reassuring look. More and more people begin to surround the table and Hope glances left and right. 

It's _just_ beer pong, right?

Then, Hope soon comes to register that the matter is far more complicated. This is a competitive school, but it's a business undergraduate school nonetheless. Furthermore, her family owns several well-known business companies, which is perhaps why the Mikaelson name is so renowned. 

_Oh. It's about that._

Hope suddenly looks towards Josie, wondering about her connection to business. 

Hope had already understood why her friends had recognized the Saltzman twins. She's just confused as to why she, herself, didn't. Why didn't her father ever tell her that Alaric had daughters? Alaric Saltzman had created Saltzman International, the biggest competitor of her family's own companies.

Her father talked nonstop about Alaric, about how he could destroy everything Klaus has worked for. Hope grasps that it's only right that she respects her father, even now more than ever.

She can't be friends with Josie. Ever.

Hope soon remembers Lizzie, too, but she's simply an afterthought; Hope doesn't feel threatened by that girl. At all. 

Thinking back, Hope's rudeness hadn't been _completely_ unjustified. 

She's doing this for her father, she convinces herself. 

Josie is someone to stay away from, like Alaric. Hope can hear the words come out of her father's mouth, even if he's not here to say them. 


	2. Chapter 2

When Hope comes to full consciousness, after her _long_ day-dream, she realizes all eyes are on her. However, Hope now feels horrible. A disconcerting ache begins to pull at her scalp, the beginnings of a headache forming. It beats in her head, almost along with the music. 

Suddenly, the girl doesn't feel like playing at all. She just wants to leave and go to her apartment and fall asleep. In her too-big bed, in her too reclusive apartment. Hope feels tired and mindlessly wonders why everyone else isn’t screaming with exhaustion, too. 

She has to do _something._ She knows so. Since she'd never embarrassed herself, she has her friend do so. Hope walks over to grab the balls from the middle of the table and when she heads back to Maya, she makes sure Penelope and Josie don't know what she's up to.

"If you love me, _fall_ ," Hope emphasizes but her voice stays below a whisper. Maya hears it nonetheless, and with a smirk on her face, she falls, classy of course, onto the table, disrupting the entirety of the game within two seconds. Hope almost _laughs._

_Wow, I have good friends._

Of course, Josie is hotly yelling in a mere second, "You did that on purpose!" 

"You can't blame her. She's drunk. She _must've_ slipped." Hope blames Maya's inebriation. There's a glint of mischief in Hope's eyes when she says it and there's recognition in Josie's eyes when she sees it. Hope allows Josie to read her, an all-knowing smirk on her face. 

"I mean, you would've lost anyways so think of this as some sort of consolation," Hope wants to snicker at the anger so evident in Josie's face, but she needs to keep her little scheme up. Hope has always been an actress anyhow. 

Josie moves to comment back, but Penelope places a hand on her shoulder. Hope doesn't miss the way Josie cools immediately and she definitely doesn't miss the way Josie looks at Penelope in return. _Are they dating?_

"Let's go, she's not worth it. We should find our friends and get going. You have work early tomorrow, remember?" Penelope tells Josie and Hope can't help but listen in. That's the second time tonight.

_Wait...work?_

For a second, her mind lingers on that single thought before it lets go of it altogether. 

Hope doesn't bother to stay for Josie's reaction as she helps to pick up the cups from the mess she's created. This _is_ her fault. 

"Thanks," the girl says to Maya, grateful for her. In the past year alone, Maya has done more for her than any other friend. She’s grown to be a sister but Hope is not all too enlightened with mushy feelings and confessions. Hope likes to think that Maya just _knows_ how much Hope values their friendship. 

"No problem, you know I got you. But why?" Maya's face is etched with confusion for the situation. She knows they could've won. 

Hope glances around the room while she's still on her knees. The crowd has dispersed a long time ago, but the music is prevalent now more than ever. She looks at Maya's face and then looks back down as she can't seem to meet her eyes. 

"I got bored." Maya leaves it as that when she hears Hope's voice become fixed and sharp. Hope’s grateful for _that_ , too. 

-

The next morning Hope wakes up to _all_ of her friends in her apartment. There’s two in her bed and two on the floor. She can’t possibly remember if she’s consented to this. She knows she’d _never_ allow her friends to sleepover.

_Oh my god, my parents are gonna ki—Oh._

Hope acknowledges that this isn’t high school anymore and she lives by herself. Alone. All alone. 

She gets up to use the bathroom as her bladder is killing her, and steps over Ethan and Sebastian who are both thrown across the carpet. 

Memories of last night circle and rush back to her mind and Hope finds herself feeling the heavy onset of embarrassment. In the past day alone, it’s a feeling she’s been _more_ than familiar with. 

She exits the bathroom and sits on her bed, smiling at the ugly sleeping faces of her friends. Sam is drooling and Hope is deciding whether or not to throw out the pillow after Sam wakes up. 

She starts to think about school in the fall, only half a month away. It’s July, and although the weather should be hot, it’s only getting colder. She’s glad for it, though. Hope has always been likened to the cooler temperatures and winters. 

She’s nervous about the dorms, however. The school makes it mandatory for students to live in the dorm rooms, something she thinks is _completely_ unheard of. 

The worst part about it is that the students can’t even make requests to live with their friends. It’s by chance but at least it’s on a freshman and sophomore year only basis. She can head back to her apartment once she’s made it past the first two years of college. Hope is excited for the year and simultaneously having _all_ of her friends with her makes the idea of her first year even more appealing. 

Ever since she was younger, she grew up with all of them, through family and business connections undoubtedly. 

However, at the same time, Hope is completely terrified. The biggest of expectations fall on her shoulders, crippling her in their significant weight. 

She can’t complain about _anything_ and she’s indisputably forced to continue and take over her family’s firms. Although Hope couldn’t possibly think about doing anything else in her life, she’s upset that she’s _so_ stuck.

Hope hears a groan from the right side of the bed and knows that Maya is beginning to awake.

“Why are you staring at me, you weirdo?” Maya’s voice is groggy from disuse and she’s having the hardest time trying to open her eyes.

“Oh, sorry, the way you yawn is just _so_ appealing,” Hope throws back at her, and Maya rubs at her eyes before asking for the time.

“It’s ten-thirty but why are you all in my apartment?” Hope can’t help but bring her confusion to the surface and their conversation soon wakes up everyone else as well. 

“You let us stay over, you _whore_ ,” Sam says from underneath a pillow. Hope has to double back to make sure she’s hearing her correctly.

“Wow, aren’t you so nice in the mornings?” Sebastian’s accent is thick in its teasing and sarcasm, and Sam gets up just to scowl at him.

“What do you guys wanna do today?” Maya asks after she finally wills herself to get up. When no one answers her, everyone leaden with thought, she says, “Do you guys wanna go to breakfast? I know this mini coffee spot. It actually isn’t too far from our campus.” Her voice sounds a lot like trouble and Hope immediately thinks about what she’s planning. 

“Sure, but don’t you guys have to go home to get ready? I didn’t see any clothes with you yesterday.” Hope assumes as she glances around the room. 

“No, we all have our sleepover bags. They’re in the living room.” There is an immediate silence that fills the room after Ethan speaks. 

“Wait… you guys planned this, didn’t you?” Hope alludes to the sleepover.

Sam glances towards Maya, Sebastian, and Ethan before eyeing Hope. “Okay, _yes_ , but it’s not like we can go back home after the party _drunk_. Some of us don’t have full-on apartments and we _all_ still live with our parents,” Sam hurriedly explains, trying to get every word off before Hope explodes at their wayward preparation for the afterparty. 

Hope only laughs in regard to the situation. Her laughter quiets down the second it starts as Hope holds on to one part of Sam’s sentence, “I mean, _at least_ you guys have paren—”

“—Don’t. You really need to talk to someone, Hope. If not us, then someone.” Hope’s poke was meant to come off as a joke, but the room fills with abundant amounts of pity and _no one_ finds it funny. Sebastian is first in making an attempt to get Hope to open up, but the auburn-headed girl simply gets up and begins sifting through drawers. 

“We should start getting ready if we want to do breakfast.” The beginnings of a conversation, one of which Hope never wants to be a part of, is thrown at her, but she dodges it wistfully. She _isn’t_ ready. Hope finds what she’s looking for—some clothes—and heads towards the bathroom door, not bothering to catch the look on _any_ of her friends’ faces. 

-

The drive to the place Maya recommended is incredibly short and _silent._ Even the music doesn’t take away from the awkwardness. When they finally arrive, Hope tells them to stop, and the laughter and ease in the friend group begins again. 

Hope, first in the cafe, gravitates towards the register and almost drops her jaw when she recognizes who’s behind the register: Josie. She’s wearing an apron and a small cap and she looks kind of cu— _No_. Hope turns back before the girl can notice her and drags Maya with her. 

She tells Ethan, Sebastian, and Sam to go ahead, she’ll be _just_ a minute. 

Hope pulls Maya outside and immediately states, “You have a minute to explain yourself.” But Hope doesn’t let her talk, “God, sometimes you do some really good things like yesterday and then you go and do this and I mean I don’t…” Hope starts to ramble off and Maya has never seen her friend like this.

Maya realizes that this is what Hope Mikaelson looks like when she’s _unprepared_. Maya stops Hope in the middle of her sentence. “Okay, so yesterday after you pulled _that_ shit, I overheard Josie and her sister talking and Josie was complaining about having to go to work tomorrow, and then, you know me, I listened to their whole conversation and here we are!” Maya finds herself rambling as well but her sentences aren’t as incoherent and winded as Hope’s were. 

“Okay, I understand, but why are _we_ here?” Hope is exasperated but not as annoyed as Maya would expect her to be. Hope notices how she begins to fix herself and instantaneously stops touching her hair. It was a reflex, that’s _all._

“Think of it as me being a good friend,” This is all that Maya says and Hope only acts confused. She knows what Maya is hinting at, but bringing it to the surface is embarrassing and, frankly, never happening. Hope acts like she’s in disgust, her nose flaring up, but denial is all too evident in her features.

“Why do you think she has a job? I mean, her parents are as loaded as mine!” Hope starts to get off track from the main point of their conversation. 

“You know, Hope, some people like to _earn_ their money.” Maya isn’t being respectful but is carelessly direct and Hope realizes why her question could’ve been seen as appalling and privileged. However, that doesn’t stop Hope from continuously wondering about the _real_ answer. 

Hope and Maya begin to walk back into the coffee shop and Hope dreads the conversation that’s about to occur. She hopes that Maya will get the clue and do all the talking for them. 

The coffee shop is a cute one. There is comfortable seating around every corner and it’s a darkened room. Hope registers how the cafe makes the world feel like it’s nighttime, even when the day has barely begun. It feels like it’s raining outside and Hope glances towards the window to simply check that it isn’t.

Hope sees Ethan and Sebastian putting lids on their own drinks while Sam saves seats for the group at the far back. She wonders if her friends had recognized Josie or if they even said hello. 

Maya and Hope check with their friends to make sure that they hadn’t ordered anything for the missing pair before making their way up to the front. The line feels like hours to Hope, when in reality it’s only been three minutes because of the group that had come in before them. Her heart thumps painfully in her chest and she starts to become anxious. 

She grabs her phone out of her pocket and begins to act like she’s texting someone, but it’s a black screen and her keyboard is fake in its existence. 

They’re finally first in line, ready to say their orders. The Saltzman twin chooses to acknowledge only Hope’s friend and directs all her attention to Maya. At the moment, Hope is grateful for it. Later, the case isn’t exactly so. 

“Hi! How are you doing?” Josie begins, a normal phrase to emit out of _any_ employee’s mouth. Her sentence is plagued with enthusiasm to Maya, but her face shows little to no emotion. There are no remnants of even _recognizing_ Hope yet. 

_"We’re_ doing fine! Thank you.” Maya becomes rather petty but continues to be kind with her wording.

“What would you both like today?” Josie now acknowledges that there are two of them, but her words are still only directed to Maya. Hope involuntarily frowns. Hope’s never felt more invisible. 

Maya repeats her order to Josie, something like an iced mocha and a grilled cheese. When it comes to Hope’s turn, she freezes. It takes a second for her to respond, but for some reason, she’s lost her appetite. 

“I’m fine, thank you,” Hope’s voice lowers, but is constant in its personality. Maya furrows her eyebrows at the girl and Josie is still looking at that _damn_ monitor. Hope has somehow lost her ability to be coarse. She finds it again later, however. In the meanwhile, Maya doesn’t bother to try to change Hope’s mind. 

Josie tells them the total, which Hope nicely pays for, and the two move off to the side. They wait a few minutes before Maya receives what she ordered. Hope decides not to take the time to glance at Josie, who is busy with a long line of customers. Did Josie _not_ recognize her? 

The two head back to their whole friend group. Hope and Maya join them in the midst of a Jenga game between Sam and Sebastian. The group tries not to be loud, really, but it’s hard when the tower is very much leaning towards Sebastian’s side and it _still_ hasn’t fallen. Ethan doesn’t help the noise level at _all_ when he decides to pretend to sit on the tall tower but accidentally slips. Big mistake. 

Before they get kicked out, Hope decides it’s a good time for the group to leave. It’s been an hour. An hour of pretending to listen to her friends talk. An hour of being thoroughly distracted. An hour of being disappointed. Hope finds a certain fun in arguing with the brunette, but not talking at all? Painful. 

She’s had three god-awful conversations with the brunette. Both occurred only yesterday, and those had been the highlight of her week. 

When they’re about to leave, Maya _accidentally_ knocks over her drink, which is left more than half full. Right away, Maya tells Hope to get napkins before they all get even more embarrassed. She starts to head towards the register and when she looks back, her friends are nowhere to be seen.

_Those bitches._

Hope realizes that her friends left her to clean up the mess herself, something that she’ll ultimately end up getting them back for. Their friend group had done this multiple times, but usually, it was Ethan who they left. She huffs in frustration when she can’t find the napkins. 

Inevitably, Hope waits in line because now she knows she’ll have to _ask_ for them. And, of course, Josie is still working the register. 

When Josie’s done with the last customer, Hope blurts, “Where are the napkins?” She does so without a greeting but feels that the brown-eyed girl deserves it for not even giving her any attention in the first place. 

Josie seems caught off, not expecting Hope to be back. She recovers but blanks, “They’re _literally_ right there.” Josie is impassive and her composure collected. 

Hope glances down to what Josie’s pointing at and frowns when she sees the napkin dispenser. She becomes completely mortified. She begins to pray that the girl facing her doesn’t get the idea that Hope is trying to excessively talk with her. They’ve only just met and Hope _knows_ that this is weird. 

In Hope’s discomfort, she attacks back, “Oh, is that your manager in the back?” 

Josie panics and lies, “No, that’s a customer.” 

“Working on the coffee machine? Well, anyways, I just wanted to tell him how _helpful_ you’re being,” Hope sees right through Josie and now the roles have reversed. Josie is seething in anger but Hope knows that she herself would never do anything to jeopardize Josie’s job. 

Josie’s face looks torn between wanting to fight and having to keep an air of professionalism. Hope starts to lean towards the napkins and moves to take out a few from the box when a hand overlaps hers, “I can’t do this here. Just leave, please.” 

Hope sees the request fill throughout Josie’s face and knows that the young girl means it. Simultaneously, she hears the pleading in her voice and gets upset at herself for being needlessly hostile. 

Although Josie _definitely_ doesn’t sound scared, she sounds distressed. That noise doesn’t bode too well with Hope and Hope backs away, afraid to further progress the situation. 

As quick as Josie’s hand was on Hope’s, it’s off and the feeling burns Hope’s skin and starts to gnaw on her knuckles. 

Hope locks eyes with Josie and simply nods. She gathers half of the napkins in the container, just so she doesn’t have to come back for _more._


	3. Chapter 3

Before Hope leaves the shop, she pushes a twenty dollar bill down the tip jar, an apology for what has occurred. She rushes outside, feeling eyes glued to the back of her head. She doesn't turn back, even if it hurts like a laser. 

  
  


"I really can't _believe_ you guys left me there to clean everything up!" Hope groans and opens up the car door but all of her friends can't seem to meet her gaze. She just _knows_ that they were all laughing prior to her arrival. Hope's bitter about it because why _can't_ it be someone else's turn? 

  
  


"Well, now you know how _I_ feel!" Ethan states and somehow Hope becomes even _more_ angry. 

  
  


"Maya, don't think you still aren't dead to me," Hope lingers onto the past and misery is a monster, swallowing her up whole. It finds Hope and sucks on every inch of her skin, depleting Hope of any positivity. Thoughts about Josie and what had last occurred spring up again and, for a moment, the shorter girl wonders why she's so drawn to the brunette.

  
  


_What's so special?_

  
  


The agony of not knowing the answer upsets her, driving her even further down the warpath. 

  
  


"I was just trying to h—" Maya is soon cut off by the daggers that Hope emits from her own eyes. 

  
  


The rest of her friends are in a substantial amount of confusion but Hope would never clarify. 

  
  


"It's so weird that Josie works here, huh?" Sam _just_ happens to bring up three minutes into the ride back to Hope's place. Sam continues when no one bothers to speak up, "I mean, we were just with her yesterday, what a coincidence!" Maya stifles a laugh when Hope hits her in the stomach. 

  
  


"Yeah, how ironic!" Maya's voice is thick with enjoyment, thoroughly amused with the situation. 

  
  


"Do you guys wanna know something that happened last year? Maya was really drunk and sh—" Hope's the one having all the fun now, but the pleasure is cut short when Maya talks over her. 

  
  


"Okay, I get it!" Maya's all too exasperated and it seems as though the whole car is in hysterical laughter now. Everyone knows not to bring it up again though. 

  
  


When the laughter finally comes to a stop, Sebastian wonders, "Yeah, but why is Josie working? Surely, her family would never cut her off, right? Do you guys think Lizzie is working too?" Sebastian's questions are said rather hurried but Hope is grateful that someone was thinking about the same thing she was. 

  
  


But, Hope also doesn't miss the side comment about Lizzie. Actually, _no one_ misses it. 

  
  


"I knew it! You have a fat ass crush on her, don't you!" Maya all but accuses him and Sebastian blushes like an idiot. The guy doesn't even _try_ to deny it. 

  
  


"Aye! Get some man!" Ethan hurrays, and the two do the _weirdest_ handshake. Sam _gags_ , but Hope really doesn't think she was faking it. 

  
  


"No sex talk in front of us!" Maya reprimands her brother, but Ethan gets upset in return.

  
  


"You girls do it all the time with us, though!" The two siblings start to argue and for a second everyone just stares, not really caring. 

  
  


The pair stop when Hope speaks, "Sebastian, have you even talked to her yet?"

  
  


Nervousness takes a hold on Sebastian and Hope knows it's probably because they never talk about this. "Well, at the party yesterday she bumped into me..." 

  
  


When Sebastian doesn't continue, Hope probes further, "And?" 

  
  


" _She_ apologized." The car goes silent and then there's laughter all at once. Sebastian shakes his head, but finds himself starting to laugh as well. 

  
  


The group pulls into the parking lot of Hope's complex and when Maya parks she says, "We should set you guys up."

  
  


Sam nods like it's a good idea, but Hope isn't thinking so positively about it. She tries to break her thinking pattern, but it inevitably goes to Josie. They'll probably use her to get to Lizzie.

  
  


_This is a bad idea._

  
  


"Yeah! Hope, Maya, and I could go talk to Josie tomorrow at her job! You haven't had someone in forever, this is perfect!" Sam feels accomplished with her new plan and is smiling a little too hard. When Sam basically confirms Hope's thoughts, she sighs. 

  
  


"First of all, no. Second of all, how do we even know Josie's working tomorrow?" Hope deflates and knows she'll never do it, but leads her friends on anyway.

  
  


"Hope, this isn't about you. Also, we can just check. It doesn't hurt. Sebastian?" Sam tries to catch Sebastian's attention, but he's in a daze. It takes a second to snap him out of it.

  
  


"Yeah, I kinda agree with Hope. I mean, doesn't it seem _too_ weird?" Sebastian glances between Sam and Hope, waiting for their reaction. Although the car is pulled to a stop, no one moves to get out. 

  
  


"It'll make you look better for trying to reach out to her. She'll know that she has your attention. What's the worst that could happen?" Sam asks, and Hope knows that the onset of that question _definitely_ means something bad will happen. However, Hope knows it's best to help her friend out. Sebastian _has_ been kind of lonely and he hasn't dated anyone for a year. 

  
  


Hope stops trying to argue with Sam and moves to get out of the car. She leaves the door open and heads towards the apartment, hearing Sam and Maya scheming in the background. Ethan follows after her and Sebastian is still stuck between the two girls who are extremely excited at the chance to set their friend up. 

  
  


Hope still doesn't know if he's even consented to it. 

-

  
  


"Okay so we made a plan!" Hope's watching TV in her living room when Maya busts through the door. Hope doesn't immediately hear the girl and bounces off the couch, a pillow in hand to get her intruder. She realizes it's Maya and stops. 

  
  


"How did you even get in?" Hope calms down after a few minutes, but her heart is still racing. 

  
  


"I have a key. And what were you gonna do with the pillow? _Suffocate_ me?" Maya teases her and Hope feels annoyed all of a sudden. She had been relaxing the whole morning and _of course_ her friends were still thinking about the _damn_ plan. 

  
  


Hope sits back down and throws the pillow at Maya anyways. Maya picks it up and joins Hope on the couch.

  
  


"Look, I'm not gonna do it," Hope tells Maya right away, not trying to encourage her. She carries on when Maya lets her, "Also, I don't want to cause another scene at Josie's job..." Hope trails off and Maya knows there's more to it.

  
  


"What happened when we left yesterday?" Maya's voice takes on compassion and Hope doesn't particularly want to get caught up in this subject.

  
  


"Nothing good," Hope spits out, remembering the situation all too well. 

  
  


"I thought you liked the fighting? I mean, it looked like you enjoyed arguing with her. That's why I let you go on with it," Maya puts a hand on Hope's shoulder when Hope looks away.

  
  


"Let's not talk about this. It doesn't matter. It's not that serious," Hope stands up and she opens the door for Maya, trying to push her away. Maya hadn’t even let Hope know she was coming.

  
  


Maya doesn't know how upset Josie got yesterday, and _that_ wasn't fun. 

  
  


Maya doesn't bother to get up and after raising her eyebrows at Hope for a full minute, Hope relents. She closes the door and sits on a chair in her kitchen. 

  
  


"If you're not gonna come in with us, at least be in the car as a support system for Sebastian. He's quite charming, but he's nervous and hasn't done this in a while, not since Cassandra. You know that," Maya's mad now and guilt starts to eat at Hope. She realizes that she's being selfish and begins to come around.

  
  


She hadn't realized the implications of not helping. 

  
  


"Sorry, you're right. I don't know what I was thinking," Hope puts on a show for Maya, apologizing but not sure if she still wants to do this. Maya inclines, accepting Hope's excuse of an apology. 

  
  


Maya fills the blue-eyed girl in and tells Hope that they'll all be going to the eatery a little later at noon. 

  
  


When it's time to leave, Hope follows Maya out of the apartment and into Maya's car. Maya heads back to her house to pick up Ethan and then after a few pickups later, all of the friends are in the car.

  
  


Sebastian looks like he's about to throw up and Sam tries to reassure him, "Sebastian you're not even gonna leave the car. All we're doing is asking Josie what her sister thinks of you. That's it, okay?" At that, Sebastian calms down but Hope knows that he's only anxious because of Josie's answer. 

  
  


Maya starts to drive to the coffee shop. When they finally arrive, she moves to get out of the car but utters a single sentence real quick, "I'll text you guys when I see that Josie's working, then Sam you come in and help me." 

  
  


They all nod and Hope thinks it's pathetic when Maya makes a move to bring all their hands together and yells, "Wildcats!" 

  
  


Hope throws her a look and Maya all but slaps her across the face, "What? It's for the team camaraderie." Hope nods her head, but a smile still finds its way across her face. 

  
  


After Maya leaves, Sam jumps into the driver's seat and hands Hope a pair of binoculars. 

  
  


"You're not serious, are you?" Hope is in heavy disbelief and Ethan laughs from behind. Sebastian is still in the back, moving back and forth like he's about to die. 

  
  


Hope watches Maya as the girl opens the door to the shop but as soon as she opens it, she heads back outside almost running. Hope recognizes the look of panic, even one-hundred feet away from the girl. Maya made it a point to park _very_ far away. 

  
  


Maya opens up the back door of her car and actually dives in, like she's hiding from someone's vision. 

  
  


"Okay, plan B," Maya pants and they all start to hassle her with questions at the same time. When Maya doesn't answer any of them, they all realize she's still trying to catch her breath from the small run. 

  
  


"Josie is _definitely_ working. Lizzie's in there. Actually, _everyone's_ in there." The girl takes several large gasps of air between each sentence and Hope thinks that Maya looks like she got the shit kicked and scared out of her. 

  
  


Sebastian's rocking becomes even more prominent and paced and all of Hope's friends are freaking out. Hope doesn't really care because she just knows there's no way in _hell_ she's going in there. 

  
  


"Oh god. Oh god." Sebastian squeezes out and Hope almost laughs. Almost. 

  
  


"We don't even have a plan B!" Ethan says and Maya frowns when she realizes he's right. 

  
  


"You guys have to calm down. This isn't that serious," Hope starts to speak while all the noise in the car disappears, silence freezing her friends. Hope moves on with her point, "Sebastian, you just need to go in there and make a move. That's all. Sam and Maya will go with you so you don't freak out." 

  
  


"Well, what about me?" Ethan says and Hope rolls her eyes.

  
  


"You're staying with me!" Hope yelps at him and Ethan moves to respond.

  
  


"What? I'm a better wing-man for him than the both of them combined." Hope knows that he's right so she agrees with him.

  
  


"Okay, sure. Ethan take Sebastian and go inside," Hope finishes. The noise level starts to increase again because Maya and Sam are confused as to what their role in this is.

  
  


"Wait. Wait. Wait. There's like five of them. If the two of them go in there, they're outnumbered." Maya declares and well, Hope, she doesn't like that idea at all. The group comes to the conclusion that they all have to go. It's _only_ fair. Sebastian and Ethan are bound to mess up if they go in alone. 

  
  


"Did they see you leave, Maya? Cause if they did we have to come back another day." Hope questions the girl and when Maya shakes her head, Hope decides it's a good time to get out of the car. 

  
  


When everyone's out, the three girls check over Sebastian's appearance. When they settle on the fact that he looks good, they move towards the door. Hope subconsciously checks out her own appearance in the reflection of the car and ruffles down her shirt. When she turns around, Maya raises an eyebrow and Hope tries to find any reason to _not_ punch her. 

  
  


Ethan goes in first and Hope last, closing the door behind her. The group heads inside and Hope tries to hide herself behind her friends and realizes Sebastian's doing the same. She pushes him when he doesn't seem to notice that he's insanely tall and would _never_ get away with it. 

  
  


Hope looks around the room and finds Josie's friends and sister talking with each other near the register. Hope can't help but look for Josie as well and when she finds her, Josie has already noticed Hope's presence. For some reason, Hope imagines that those eyes had been on her for a while. Hope doesn't know if she should accredit her imagination to false hope but decides against thinking about it altogether. 

  
  


Hope averts her eyes right away, failing to find a good enough reason to not do so. She turns her attention to the coffee cups sprayed out across the shelves next to the shop's door, but isn't looking at them whatsoever. 

  
  


Hope hears an explosion of laughter and tears her consciousness towards Josie's friend group again. She realizes that none of them have their drinks or food so they probably haven't been here for long either. 

  
  


However, she speaks too quick and notices Penelope get up to get their order when her name is called. Penelope takes the drinks out of Josie's hands and Hope's eyes widen when she sees Penelope move in to kiss Josie on the cheek. Josie seems to take it pleasantly but pushes Penelope away when she remembers she's at her job. Penelope chuckles and teases her. 

  
  


Something pulls at Hope's throat but she doesn't care enough to name it. She forgets about it quickly enough, but continues to feel bitter. 

  
  


Hope's friends are finally first in line and Hope gets a little upset when it's not Josie taking their orders. She shrugs it off and walks towards a table. 

  
  


She sits down and her friends join her a moment later. 

  
  


"Okay Sebastian we should probably go now before they leave," Ethan states and Sebastian nods, but has unease written all over his face.

  
  


"I _don't_ think they're gonna be leaving anytime soon," Hope mumbles but it falls onto deaf ears.

  
  


"What are you guys gonna do?" Maya questions but her voice sounds devious. She speaks a little too loud and gets hushed right away. 

  
  


"I actually haven't thought that completely through," Sebastian whispers. 

  
  


"Well, what if you send her a drink that has something written on the cup?" Hope gets an idea and immediately everyone starts to agree with her. Hope, in the moment, gets a burst of confidence when she sees that Josie's on the register and says, "I'll go order it!"

  
  


Hope makes a move and stands up before anyone can object and Sebastian starts to feel a little better because he has to be able to do something as simple as handing a girl a cup of coffee. 

  
  


This burst of confidence soon recedes as Hope quickly feels terrible.

  
  


She stands in line and the feeling of anxiety floods back into her veins, igniting her thoughts and drowning her in regret almost instantaneously. 

  
  


Her feet continue to move along with the line and when she gets to the front, Josie smirks. Her pained face from yesterday is now only a distant memory. 

  
  


"What are you doing? Stalking me?" Josie just about taunts her and Hope becomes wicked in a mere second.

  
  


"You _wish_. I don't even think about you.” Hope's voice is filled with venom, but the poison becomes reduced to nothingness after the second sentence. “Anyways, I'm actually here to ask a question." Josie becomes all too curious and Hope grins. 

  
  


_We're the same. You and me._

  
  


"Look, so you can't say anything. But hypothetically speaking, my friend _might_ have a crush on your sister. So say if we were to get a certain blonde a drink, do you know what she'd want?" Hope phrases her words carefully, not wanting Josie to have _anything_ on her. 

  
  
  


Josie relaxes at what Hope asks and Josie leans in. Hope is drawn immediately but backs away slightly because the two still aren't on the best terms. Hope notices the lack of clarity across the girl's face. Josie's face looks torn but the aspect wavers before completely perishing. 

  
  


Josie's eyes are lit and there's something in them that draws Hopes attention. 

  
  


There's something in them when Josie whispers _too_ invitingly, "This didn't come from me, but a cappuccino."

  
  


And there's something in them when Josie clicks a button on her monitor. Hope realizes that the girl might be playing her because Hope recognizes the glint in her eyes. A glint that Hope is all too familiar with.

  
  


"Actually...give me every drink on the menu. Medium." Hope doesn't regret it because Josie looks taken aback and the glint in her eyes fade away. No residue of that certain glimmer and Hope wishes that this isn't the last time she'll ever see it. 

  
  


"You're sure?" Josie frowns and Hope's never been more positive. However, Josie's frown soon turns into a smirk, like she's insanely happy to be wasting Hope's money.

  
  


" _Completely_ ," Hope mutters, poison finding her again. But this time, the poison lingers. It stays when she inserts her card into the credit machine and it passes onto her hands when Josie gives her the receipt. Perhaps it might have even grasped Josie. Almost like what all of Hope's actions do.

  
  


Hope returns back to her friends, the most fraudulent smile corrupting her lips. "What did you do?" Sam asks Hope when the girl sits down. 

  
  


"I bought every drink, just so we could be one-hundred percent sure." Hope simply acknowledges her friends but continues to be deep in thought. Her state is disrupted when Sam asks her another question.  
  
  


"What? Josie wouldn't tell you?" Sam is in disbelief, her face matching the incredulity of Hope's other friends.

  
  


"Something like that." 

  
  


Hope's name is called in a matter of twenty minutes and there's an estimated thirty drinks on the counter. Hope wonders how they're all done at the same time.

  
  


The girl notices how Josie is still at the counter and Hope doesn't particularly have the energy for another interaction. So, she relies on her friends and disguises her feelings with an innocent question, asking her friends for help and they all get up, grabbing every single drink on the counter.

  
  


They all settle back on the table and start to wonder what to write on the cups. Maya runs back to her car to grab markers and pens from her bookbag and Hope is glad for that. She did not _want_ to have to ask for one. 

  
  


They have to do it fast and ultimately end up deciding to write coffee puns on each of the cups. Hope's friends become mad at her, because the job really shouldn't have taken this long. In the first place, it should've been one cup. 

  
  


At the end, the cups are neatly placed on the table all in organized rows. Sebastian starts to move the table towards Lizzie's direction and is stopped when an arm grips his side, "You're just going to move the table all the way over there? You'll look pathetic!" Maya shoots at him. 

  
  


"What other option do I have?" Maya relents when she knows he's right. They all settle down and watch as he finally makes his move. 

  
  


However, Hope stops him again and says, "When you're done flirting and all that, ask her how she feels about a cappuccino!" She all but yells and Sebastian nods and continues on. 

Sam takes out her purse, looking for her phone to videotape but Hope stops her. For some reason, Ethan is looking more nervous than Sebastian and Hope understands. Maya is just smirking wickedly, like she's been waiting all day for this moment. 

  
  


The friends all stop talking and it seems as though the rest of the shop has quieted down. When the shop's noise level drops far below silence, Lizzie turns around to see what the big cessation is about. Sebastian drags the table in front of Lizzie and leans on it. "I believe this is yours," Sebastian charms and his accent couldn't be more attractive. 

  
  


Lizzie basically swoons and the two begin to talk but the others can't really hear their conversation anymore. In the victoriousness of the moment, Hope and Maya high-five and Hope feels an intense gaze on her. She looks up and catches Josie's face, but this time her vision doesn't falter. 

  
  


Josie tilts her head up in astonishment, and the movement fancies near brevity. But Hope catches it, and moves her lips towards her own drink, only pausing briefly to bring the drink up like a toast. Her gestures are directed towards Josie and the intensity of Hope's stare lingers before disappearing completely. Josie takes a step back, like a wave of fervor has overtaken her. 

  
  


Josie only shakes her head, a slight smile forming on her face. She looks down as if to stop anyone from seeing it. Hope catches _that_ , too. 

  
  


Josie goes back to cleaning the counter and Hope tries to not pay the girl any more attention. She doesn't deserve it. Not if she tried to do what Hope thinks she tried to do. 

  
  


Hope continues to watch Sebastian and Lizzie's conversation, although she can't really hear what's going on. Ethan and Maya are making weird noises and Hope guesses it's encouragement for Sebastian. 

  
  


Sebastian comes back a few moments later with a number written across his wrist and a smile etched across his face. However, the group knows not to do anything as they come to notice that Lizzie's friends are watching. Sebastian would _surely_ murder them all if any of them embarrassed him after the day's events.

  
  


Sebastian sits down and they all celebrate silently. 

  
  


They stay in the shop for a few minutes and Hope watches as Lizzie's friends completely devour all of Lizzie's drinks. She makes eye contact with a boy she recognizes as Landon Kirby and he smiles but Hope can't help but compare it to someone else's. She grins back anyways and if anyone asks her why, it's caused she's amused. 

  
  


They get up to leave minutes later when Hope remembers something, "Hey, did you ever ask Lizzie about the cappuccino?" 

  
  


Sebastian takes a moment to reply, perhaps getting the memory back out of his mind, and says, "Oh, yeah! She said she absolutely _hates_ it." 


	4. Chapter 4

It’s been a week since Sebastian and Lizzie had started dating, and Hope Mikaelson feels like she’s about to cut her own head off. Sebastian has been _nonstop_ talking about Lizzie. The pair go out with each other almost every night. After each evening, Hope and all of her friends are forced to listen to Sebastian babble on and on about the Saltzman twin through their group facetimes. 

  
  


It makes Hope utterly miserable but not for the reason she tells her friends.

  
  


Half of Hope is insanely jealous and the other half is struggling to hang on to any shred of positivity. 

  
  


Hope _wants_ to be the person who has someone to talk about. The thought drives her crazy, making her feel absolutely lonely and useless. Loneliness is a drag, pulling Hope into a scary darkness whenever she returns home. 

  
  


She’s only fresh out of high school and the girl hopes that she won’t feel this way forever. It’s absurd, she knows. There are so many _worse_ things to worry about but she can’t help but fall into the same routine—trailing to bed tirelessly and being embraced by the emptiness of her apartment—almost every night. 

  
  


Hope does _feel_ happy for Sebastian, though. She’s glad he’s able to talk to them about it. 

  
  


It’s eleven at night and Hope worries when she sees an incoming group facetime call from Sebastian. Usually, their calls would be towards seven o’clock. Today, they hadn’t had one yet. 

  
  


She’s the first to accept and waits with Sebastian for the other friends to join. In a mere ten seconds, everyone joins. Hope has a feeling that her friends experienced the same concern she did. 

  
  


“ _Oh my god_ , why do you look like that?” Maya says through the phone to Sebastian.

  
  


“Look like what?” His reaction is all too amusing, and Hope knows _exactly_ why he’s calling. 

  
  


His hair is ruffled and he looks like he’s still putting his clothes on from inside the car. Wow, Hope really hadn’t noticed that before. Was she really _that_ zoned-out? 

  
  


“You totally just had sex with her, didn’t you?” Sam just about accuses him and Ethan starts to yell his own sort of congratulations—a bunch of screaming does the trick. 

  
  


“But you guys literally have been dating for like, a week and a half, not even!” Maya utters and she’s completely surprised.

  
  


Sebastian smiles sheepishly and _that’s_ his answer. 

  
  


“Okay, well, I didn’t call about _that._ Look, so Lizzie and I were talking and she wants me to meet all of her friends.” He starts to gesture with his hands and Hope is sure that he’s trying to distract his friends from the fact that his shirt isn’t even _buttoned_ correctly. He should really take off his camera. 

  
  


“What does that have to do with us?” Hope questions, and although she definitely sounds rude, she’s solely curious. 

  
  


“She said that if it makes me more comfortable, I can invite my friends as well.” His voice is heavy, almost like he was scared to ask. But as soon as the words fall out of his mouth, he’s smiling again, perhaps with the reminiscence of the discussion. 

  
  


Maya misses the whole point quickly, “Wow! She’s so sweet!”

  
  


Sam ignores Maya and tells Sebastian, “Of course we’ll come to support you! But, what are we doing?” Sam grows excited with the overwhelming feeling of a group hangout. 

  
  


“It’s a movie night. So I guess we should all bring pajamas and maybe food to be nice?” Sebastian worries and Hope knows he’s close to telling his friends to behave. It can’t be that hard to be nice? Right? 

  
  


Hope wants to tell him no, that she can’t possibly go. But she knows she’ll look self-serving and hyperbolic. All of her friends had basically said yes for her, anyways. 

  
  


“When is this? On the weekend?” Hope inquests and prays that his answer is one she’s looking for. She needs time to mentally prepare herself for yet _another_ hangout. She just wants to bundle up at home and do nothing but watch time run away. 

  
  


“Actually...Don’t hate me. It’s tomorrow…” Sebastian trails off, scared but patient for everyone’s reactions.

  
  


Hope raises her hand to the camera, as if she could actually strangle him through the phone and shrieks, “What?!” 

  
  


“She just asked and she was really excited! I didn’t want to hurt her feelings!” Sebastian answers and Hope knows that she can’t _really_ be mad at him. It’s all an act, nevertheless. Her friends can’t know that she can be so lenient. 

  
  


The facetime ends an hour or two later and Hope is torn. She tries to fall asleep but too many thoughts surround her mind, depriving her brain of any oxygen. She knows that if she goes, she’ll inevitably see Josie. 

  
  


Although she does feel like talking (more like arguing) with the girl, she’s starting to feel herself gravitate towards the taller girl. The pull is intense and at large, but she reminds herself of her father. She _owes_ it to him. She’ll become successful and continue his legacy. She won’t be distracted.

  
  


_Never_.

  
  


Her thoughts torment her until she finally falls asleep, her feelings weighing her down completely. 

  
  


-

  
  


Hope wakes up past the morning and runs out of her bed, almost tripping herself, when she realizes it’s the middle of the day. She still has quite some errands to run and Sebastian is expecting her early tonight. 

  
  


She gets ready to go out to the store next to her apartment, glad that everything is so convenient for her. 

  
  


Hope arrives at the market and begins to look for candy or just something to bring to the party. She knows her other friends,but not Sebastian, will inevitably forget to bring something. Also, Mikaelsons don’t _ever_ show up empty-handed. 

  
  


Hope’s parents taught her etiquette and even if she knows she won’t have fun, Hope wants this to go well for Sebastian—he more than deserves it. 

  
  


She finds banana and chocolate chip muffins and settles on buying them. If she’s gonna buy something, at least it’s gonna be something _she_ likes. The etiquette fades away quickly, not really as reinforced in Hope’s greedy mind. 

  
  


Although she picks out the muffins, she ends up buying about four different packs of candy, not really caring who eats those. At the checkout line, she bumps into someone.

When Hope looks up, she sees hair that most notably represents a bird’s nest: Landon. 

  
  


“Oh, hey! Weird to see you here…” Landon staggers and Hope doesn’t know why he’s so anxious. Or maybe she just doesn’t have the time to actually think about it.

  
  


“Yeah. Weird.” Her voice comes out awkward and she tries to distance herself. All she wanted to buy was some _damn_ candy. 

  
  


“Are you going tonight?” Landon speaks and Hope doesn’t know why he’s being so casual about it. They don’t talk and she _definitely_ doesn’t know when they became frien—

  
  


_Stop._

The mean streak in her heart runs lost, possibly looking for a fight. But her mouth knows better, “I guess I am.” 

  
  


Hope holds up the food for show and Landon nods, understanding right away. “That’s sweet of you to bring stuff. I think Lizzie already has a lot, though. Actually, she’s going pretty crazy with it.”

  
  


Yes, Hope can imagine Lizzie going crazy. Her new boyfriend happens to be going through the same phase. 

  
  


“Yeah, but I can understand. Sebastian’s the same way.” Hope tries to find something to relate to, as she realizes this conversation is not coming to an end anytime soon. She continues, “But if anything, I’ll have the knowledge that I have something good to eat.” 

  
  


Once again, Hope raises the muffins and tries her attempt at a joke. It comes out of her mouth outlandish, but it comes out nonetheless. 

  
  


Landon laughs, maybe a little too much, and the unease in their conversation unravels. “Well, I should get going, you probably have other stuff to do.”

  
  


“Alright, I’ll see you later,” Hope turns around and almost sprints to the checkout when she sees Landon disappear from her view. She still needs to get new clothes for the start of school next week. This morning, while looking at her closet, Hope decidedly thought her clothes just didn’t do it anymore.

  
  


She gets home, throwing her groceries on the counter, and then makes a move to go back outside. It looks like it’s about to rain and Hope thinks that Sebastian’s new girlfriend might justhave predicted the best time to have a movie night.

  
  


She gets into her car, rather hurriedly, and finds comfort in the light raindrops beating against her windows. 

  
  


She buckles her seat belt and pulls out of the parking lot, right as it starts to pour. 

  
  


-

  
  


Hope has just taken a shower and also finished getting dressed, wearing flannel shorts and a white shirt. Although they don’t really look like pajamas, it’s the closest thing Hope could find to anything resembling sleepwear. 

  
  


She gets an incoming call from Maya and when she hears the, “We’re here bitch! Come outside,” she hangs up. She heads outside and is glad that it isn’t as cold as it was earlier. Although she likes the weather, she is wearing shorts. 

  
  


She finds all her friends and fakes the sadness in her voice when she realizes she was the last one to get picked up, “Damn y’all really decided to get me last?” 

  
  


“Oh, don’t be dramatic. I’m not wasting gas going back and forth,” Maya says and the argument is finished there. Hope chuckles but gets in the car. 

  
  


She jumps in the backseat and Sebastian looks like he’s heavy in thought. 

  
  


When Hope inquires what’s wrong, she immediately regrets asking. He starts to lecture the wholegroup.

  
  


“Okay. Number one: absolutely no embarrassing me. No bringing up a story because you think it’ll just be _so_ funny. No taking pictures because you think something is _so_ cute. Number two: please don’t be a sack of dickheads.” 

  
  


He looks pointedly at Hope for that jab and when she looks around at her friends in surprise, they all shrug their shoulders and choose not to meet her eyes. 

  
  


“We’d never do that to you. Well, yeah we like to embarrass you when we’re together. But like, this is real. We can behave,” Hope says and means it. Sebastian still looks at her warily, though. 

  
  


“No fighting with Josie then!” Maya challenges Hope, and Hope wants to instantaneously kill her for bringing the girl in question up. She moves to speak when Sebastian interrupts.

“Yes! Please!” Sebastian almost begs her and she’s in shock. 

  
  


Have all of her friends really noticed the fighting? Are her and Josie that predictable? 

  
  


“Hope, I just don’t want this to go wrong. I want this night to go as smooth as possible,” He clarifies when she sees the girl fall angry before his own eyes. 

  
  


There’s a twinkle in his eyes and fervor in his accent and Hope nods, feeling upset that she might have caused her friend any turmoil. 

  
  


“Everything will be fine. She likes you and you like her. We’re here for you.” 

  
  


The words stick like glue to Hope’s throat but she’s able to throw them out of her mouth and Sebastian’s sincere smile makes it worth it. 

  
  


They arrive and Hope comes to realize that Lizzie also lives in an apartment. She wonders if the twins share and live together but knows she will find out soon enough. 

  
  


Sebastian goes over the rules, again, and Hope tries her hardest not to roll her eyes. She gives him an encouraging smile, just to reassure him. The group ends up being early by fifteen minutes, so they all check over their own appearances but especially Sebastian’s. He’s wearing red plaid pants and Hope comes to realize that they’re all wearing plaid, except Sam. 

  
  


“Guys, we have an issue. We’re all basically wearing the same thing.” Hope murmurs and the rest of the group comes to grasp that they all look like little teens twinning.

  
  


“Oh yeah, Hope, let me just pull out my closet from my trunk!” Maya’s voice is thick in its sarcasm but a frown still takes over her face.

  
  


“Really? Great!” In Hope’s panic, she sort of misses the sarcasm and Maya glares. 

  
  


“It’s fine. You all look hot, anyways.” Sam tries to comfort and convince the group all at once. 

  
  


“Easy for you to say! You’re the only one not coordinating with us!” Ethan yelps and the group starts to laugh when they realize how pathetic they’re all being. 

  
  


In the five minutes that all the arguing took place, Sebastian has gathered the courage to walk up the steps of the building and starts to ring the doorbell.

  
  


His friends join him thirty seconds later. 

  
  


The door opens and, of course, Josie is the one to greet them. Hope decides to be last, which is a happenstance she ends up with the third time. 

  
  


Sebastian enters and Hope can hear his and Lizzie’s reunion, even from her position of last in line. Hope continues to remind herself of the promise she made to literallyall of her friends.

  
  


_Be nice. Be nice._

  
  


She’s about to step in, and ignore Josie completely (for the sake of Sebastian), when the door just about slams in her face. 

  
  


_That little bitc_ _—_

  
  


She stops herself before she can say what she’s thinking. She knows she can’t react. No matter _who_ provokes her. 

  
  


Hope wonders for a minute if she can call Maya and ask for the car keys so that she can just head back to the car and sit in it. Her pride won’t let her turn the knob of that door. 

  
  


She ends up not having to make a decision when she hears Lizzie call out, “Where’s Hope?” A groan follows two seconds later, Lizzie probably realizing what Josie had done, and then the door opens. “Sorry about that. My sister forgot about her manners.” 

  
  


Hope musters the ability to stay calm and plasters a smile on her face, “It’s fine! Don’t worry about it.” 

  
  


Josie frowns when she doesn’t get a reaction out of Hope and Hope just knows that this isn’t the only time Josie will be trying tonight.

  
  


Her voice is falsely enthused and she doesn’t miss it at all when she hears Josie mumble, “I didn’t forgetanything.” 

  
  


Maya turns around and smiles at Hope, perhaps trying to discourage her from misbehaving. 

  
  


Hope winks back as to say that she accepts the challenge but takes a moment to herself. She looks around the apartment and likes how homey everything looks, it certainly feels nice. There are several candles around the room and the lights from the lamps and the chandeliers are dimmed. 

  
  


She notices that the apartment looks split, as if two personalities are taking place. She comes to a realization that she must have been right; the two are living together. 

  
  


_Must be nice_. 

  
  


Lizzie guides the group towards the living room, where there are blankets and pillows sprayed out across the couches and the floor. Hope eyes Sebastian’s girlfriend and her friends’ outfits, and gets irritated at herself for paying a second’s more attention to Josie.

  
  


The girl is wearing an over-sized university sweatshirt with a black pair of shorts. Hope tears her eyes away before anyonecatches her. It’s only for a second, but even a second is too long. 

  
  


Hope and Sam leave the food that they brought on the counter. Hope finds Landon at the kitchen counter and he greets her with a smile.

  
  


Hope chooses to crack a grin as well, trying to act properly, “Hey.” 

  
  


“I thought you weren’t gonna show when I didn’t see you with your friends,” Landon talks excitedly and Hope’s suddenly glad for the loud chatter in the room.

  
  


“Well, I would’ve been here sooner if someone didn’t loc—Nevermind. But yeah, I’m here.” She says a little too obviously, as if her presence doesn’t make it factual.

She glances around the room, awkwardly, and makes eye contact with Josie who’s in the living room, making herself comfortable on the floor. The girl is laughing but her laughter comes to a pause when their eyes meet. The said girl is talking to Maya.

  
  


_Oh. Oh, no._

  
  


Hope becomes panicked and it shows _way_ too much. 

  
  


“What’s wrong?” Landon catches it right away, and Hope starts to look for an excuse.

  
  


“I forgot to do some of my homework!” Hope says and becomes completely mortified. Even faking period cramps was better than that. 

  
  


“Homework? It’s the summer.” Landon detects her bluff, but her next lie is undetectable. 

  
  


“Uh...it’s a summer assignment.” 

  
  


“Well, at least you have the weekend, other than us moving into our dorms and stuff,” Landon tries to ease her fake worries, and Hope’s about to laugh when she remembers her situation. She needs an escape. 

  
  


“Yeah, you’re right.” Their conversation returns to awkwardness and Hope takes this chance to remove herself from the exchange. 

  
  


She moves over to where Maya and Josie are _still_ talking. 

  
  


“Hey, Maya! I forgot, I have something to talk to you about,” Hope interrupts their chat.

  
  


“You can tell me later,” Maya eyes Hope with a smirk on her face and Hope knowsexactly what she’s doing. But Hope doesn’t ever disappoint with a challenge. Two can play this game. 

  
  


“Hey Josie, I _love_ your pajamas!” Hope speaks and the words begrudgingly spill from her mouth. Although the words are hard to come by, Hope’s acting is amazing _._ Hope will do absolutely anything to stop Maya from making this any harder. 

  
  


Even Josie’s surprised by her kindness, and sentences fail to materialize. Maybe this is how Hope one ups Josie, by making her speechless. 

  
  


Josie just looks at Hope, frustrated how she can’t come up with a response, and Hope is now toohappy. 

  
  


“Sorry I’ll be right back,” Maya tells Josie and Josie only nods, still inarticulate. 

  
  


Hope drags Maya to an isolated spot near the corner and Maya eyes the shorter girl, “Seriously? You were that desperate?” 

  
  


“What were you doing with her?” Hope only answers very curtly, and Maya almost laughs. 

  
  


“Only telling her about your baby pictures,” Maya teases and when Hope slaps her across the arm she goes on, “God, I’m joking! Literally we were talking about school, that’s it.” 

  
  


Lizzie calls everyone moments later as the first movie is beginning. Hope grabs an open spot on the end of the couch and almost regrets it when she sees Sebastian and Lizzie sit next to her. However, the spot is warm andcomfortable.

  
  


There’s a blanket near the arm of the chair and it smells _weirdly_ good and feels warm. As she wraps herself up in it, she almost forgets the couple next to her. She’s kind of glad that she can’t see what they’re doing. 

  
  


Josie walks into the room, minutes later, with a bowl of popcorn and one of the banana muffins that Hope had so mindfullybrung. Josie observes Hope on the couch and a weird expression falls across Josie’s complexion before it drops. 

  
  


_Huh_. 

  
  


Josie drops to the ground, sitting on the other side of the room.

  
  


Thirty minutes in, Hope feels hungry and starts to crave one of the banana muffins she had picked out at the store earlier. She only sees one missing, ultimately Josie’s, and decides to get two for good measure. She pours herself a cup of water from the refrigerator and tries to adjust to the darkness in the living room when she comes back. 

  
  


When her vision has fully accommodated, she starts to make her way towards her seat when she realizes that Josie’s there.

  
  


She’s sitting comfortably, almost in the same position Hope was in, as if she had been there for hours. Her eyes look up at Hope’s almost tauntingly when she realizes Hope has spotted her. 

  
  


Hope starts to walk towards Josie to purposefully react, but looks towards her friends, to try to see if they’re paying attention. She catches Sebastian’s eye, who shakes his head and she knows she can’t react. She only nods and goes to where Josie was sitting on the floor, the only open space left. 

  
  


She glances around the room and her view falls upon Sebastian and Lizzie, who are being undoubtedly cute. Hope’s truly happy for him. 

  
  


Her positive thinking disrupts and her glances inevitably fall back to Josie, who has the biggest smirk on her face but is staring at the TV. Surely, she can’t be paying attention; there’s nothing funny going on in the movie. 

  
  


Hope puffs in annoyance, and crosses her arms. She’s now cold and uncomfortable. 

  
She should’ve taken that _damn_ blanket with her earlier. 


	5. Chapter 5

_In love, one always starts by deceiving oneself._

  
  


~

  
  


It’s now near midnight, and the second movie had just finished. Hope gets up because she’s sure it’s time to go home but she looks around and finds that everyone’s asleep. 

  
  


She wonders how all of her friends are able to fall asleep so comfortably at someone else’s house, which is something she had always had trouble with. 

  
  


She starts to shake Sam lightly, an attempt to rouse her from her sleep. Sam opens her eyes and mumbles, “Where am I?” The girl realizes herself a second later. 

  
  


“Isn’t it time to go?” Hope tells her and Sam looks around, finding herself in the same predicament that Hope was in moments before. 

  
  


“Yeah, we should start to wake everybody and get ready to go. I’m pretty sure Sebastian didn’t say anything about a sleepover,” Sam’s voice still sounds sleepy and it takes her a while to stand up from the floor.

  
  


Hope nods, walking over to where Sebastian and Lizzie are pretty much on top of each other. How does she even do this? She looks at Sam, silently begging her to do it for her. 

  
  


Sam only laughs. Hope looks at Sebastian and then sees Josie to the left of him. She immediately gets the best idea. She starts to tip-toe over to the girl, who is about to fall off the couch, her head slipping down on the other side of the couch arm. 

  
  


Sam speaks up but it’s still low enough to not cause such a disturbance, “Hope, don’t you dare!” 

  
  


“You don’t even know what I’m gonna do.” Hope says but carries on stalking towards the other girl. 

  
  


She shakes Josie senseless and when the taller girl jolts awake she states, “Fire! Hurry we have to get out!” Once again, Hope’s theatrics are _way_ too convincing. 

  
  


Hope sees the second Josie becomes panicked and the girl gets up so hurriedly, she trips on a pillow on the floor. Hope starts to laugh obnoxiously, unable to control it. _This_ was better than the movie. 

Josie catches on and when she gets up she crosses her arms, now much in the same position Hope was in earlier. 

  
  


Josie still looks a little sleepy and the distressed face she makes allows Hope to fill up with regret. But it only lasts for a second because she’s back to laughing. 

  
  


Sam admonishes Hope and apologizes to Josie for Hope’s behavior. 

  
  


“Wait what? I didn’t do anything. She _literally_ tripped by herself!” The trio are still whisper-yelling when Hope realizes her friends _still_ hadn’t awakened. 

  
  


Hope starts to basically plead her case to Sam to just _not_ tell Maya. Maya can’t know or else Hope lost the challenge. Josie is not paying the two any real attention as she starts to wake her sister, Landon, and MG up. Did all of them really _fit_ in that one room? Hope hadn’t noticed how many people there were in the house. Not until now, really. 

  
  


Hope wonders for a second where Rafael and Penelope went but then the memory returns to her mind—Rafael got up to leave during the first half of the movie because of a family emergency and Penelope was also prone to the same set of circumstances. 

  
  


After a few minutes, all her friends are fully conscious and Lizzie starts to thank everyone for coming. However, she’s really only looking at Sebastian when she says it, “We should definitely do this again!” 

  
  


Maya speaks for the group and Hope wants to hit over the head, “Of course! We should definitely plan another one soon.” Maya does _not_ miss the look Hope gives her. Hope puts on a face and grins, although there’s no way she’s being forced into this again. 

  
  


They all start to pile out the door, but Sebastian and Lizzie are still talking and the group decides to not wait for him, as they all just get into the car. 

  
  


As she’s walking out the door, she hears Landon call out to her. 

  
  


“Bye, Hope!”

  
  


She turns around, almost wishing she had just ignored it, but smiles back at him. He’s wearing a strange look, and Hope diverts her eyes as she spots another figure in the doorway. The farewell catches Josie’s attention and Hope watches as the brunette rolls her eyes.

  
  


The auburn-headed girl shakes her head at the girl’s actions, but turns back around. She strolls down the cement of the walkway, opening the car door and getting in. 

  
  


Sebastian gets in the car probably ten minutes later and is met with the scowls of all of his friends. He offers his sincerest apologies, his words exactly. 

  
  


Maya starts to drive off. It’s minutes later when Hope realizes she’s made a fatal mistake: she forgot her phone. She searches her pockets for the device, looking just about everywhere in the car, when her worry intensifies. 

  
  


_No way._

  
  


She tells her friends seconds later when she can’t find it in the car. Maya stops the car abruptly and it doesn’t help that they’re on a public street. 

  
  


“Are you trying to kill us?!” Ethan yelps. 

  
  


“It’s one in the morning. There’s basically no one on the street.” Maya explains herself but it still doesn’t help her case. In response to the look Ethan gives her, she turns her car back on and makes a u-turn—rather illegally. 

  
  


They arrive back to the house and when Maya parks, Hope begs _every_ single person in the car to go get it for her. She sees all her friends start to fake being asleep and some begin to _even_ snore. She turns to Sebastian, who doesn’t meet her eyes.

  
  


“It’s _your_ girlfriend in there. Don’t you want to see her again?” Hope builds a pretty convincing argument but Sebastian shakes his head in spite of it. 

  
  


“We said our goodbyes for like an hour. It’ll look weird if I go back in.” He deducts and Hope feels herself become completely mortified, and she hasn’t even stepped a foot out the door. 

  
  


“You’re all gonna pay for this!” She jumps out of the car, flipping them all off. She goes to the door, rather slowly, perhaps trying to delay the inevitable. She takes a second for herself before ringing the doorbell. 

  
  


_Please don’t be Josie. Please don’t be Josie._

  
  


Her prayers come unanswered as the said girl opens the door. Her hair is wet, meaning that she must’ve taken a shower in the short time Hope was gone. She hears chatter in the background, most likely the rest of Josie’s friends. She _hopes_ that none of them come over as well. She can handle one, but all of them? Hard pass. 

  
  


Josie’s definitely caught off guard, but she looks at Hope expectantly, waiting for the reason as to her arrival. 

  
  


Hope forgets to talk, caught in the realization that Josie’s wearing a white robe and she just _knows_ she isn’t wearing anything under it. Aren’t Josie’s friends still there? Are they _that_ comfortable with each other? Or is the noise she’s hearing just the TV still playing? Questions surface in Hope’s mind, remaining buoyant as she can’t seem to comprehend the situation. 

  
  


“Uh…I forgot my phone.” The sound comes out croaky and Hope thinks about just leaving the phone there altogether. She _really_ doesn’t need one that badly. 

  
  


“Sorry, it’s not here,” Josie’s rude and her unpleasantness passes on to Hope, like a virus. It furthers a fire that’s been burning in Hope the whole evening. Josie moves to close the door, trying to force Hope in the same situation twice.

  
  


Hope laughs, because obviously Josie is unaware of the complete _monster_ Hope can become. 

  
  


Her hand holds the knob of the door, not allowing herself to be played over again. 

  
  


She pushes past Josie, inviting herself in. Manners aren’t relevant anymore. She’s been way _too_ kind. She walks silently in, not trying to grab the others’ attention if they’re _still_ there. 

  
  


“Have you seen it?” Hope probes, not really wanting to search the house and talk to Lizzie or anyone else. Hope leans in when Josie acts like she can’t hear her. 

  
  


“What does it look like?” Josie 

  
  


“iPhone clear case,” Hope’s voice does not spare any formality or kindness whatsoever.

She’s been taunted the whole night by Josie, and frankly she’s tired of putting up with it anymore.

She could care less about the challenge. The hangout is really over anyways. 

“I’ll be back, you can stay here,” Josie tells the shorter girl, her voice emotionless. It bothers Hope in a way that she can’t dismiss and she feels like breaking the hinges off of the door to spite her.

Josie walks away, sauntering down the long hallway. Hope doesn’t miss how she’s wearing Christmas snowman slippers, and it’s nowhere near Christmas. 

Hope again finds herself looking around the room in the time it takes for Josie to come back, which feels like an hour. She can guess what might be Josie’s and what might Lizzie’s out of all the paintings and little antiques. 

She wonders if the other Saltzman twin also has a mean streak in her, but so far she hasn’t recognized one on the blonde, so the thought dissipates from her mind quickly. 

This whole scene is quite hilarious, but still miserable, to Hope. Here she is, in the apartment of the daughters of Alaric Saltzman. Her dad would probably be shaming her now if he was here.

She can feel her father looking down at her now, telling her to steal or break something to upset their father. 

The daze Hope is in breaks when Josie comes back with Hope’s phone in her hand. But before Josie can even hand it over to her, Hope’s phone starts vibrating and someone’s calling it.

Hope’s eyes widen when she sees the caller ID: her aunt Freya.

Hope thinks that it’s weird for her aunt to be calling her, but realizes Freya is in Europe and probably isn’t thinking or caring about the time zone.

Their calls have been a normal occurrence, ever since her parents had—

_Stop._

Hope tries to grab the phone knowing too well of what Josie is capable of doing. She’s too slow, and Josie answers the phone before she can even move her hand. 

Josie grins, and the smirk she pulls is absolute filth.

“Hello? Hello?” Hope can hear the words on the other end of the call and cringes.

“Hi!” Josie’s once monotonous voice jumps to enthusiasm in a span of a second. Hope’s starts to fight Josie, now physically trying to take the phone away from her.

Josie is also fighting Hope off, basically smacking her while simultaneously running away. 

“Oh, no. I’m Hope’s friend!” Josie’s voice splashes in its eagerness to embarrass Hope, although she really hasn’t done anything yet. Hope’s starting to back Josie up into a corner and somehow Josie’s dodging all of her touches. 

“Yeah, sorry, Hope can’t come to the phone. She’s busy.” She knows Freya must be asking tons of questions and Josie is flying through them like she’s an expert at conversation.

“What is she doing? Oh, she’s really constipated. She’s been on the toilet for _hours_.” Josie starts, and Hope doesn’t help her situation when she audibly groans, something her aunt could probably hear through the phone. 

Hope finally grasps the phone out of Josie’s hand and she realizes that she’s practically grabbing Josie from behind, something that looks an awful lot like a hug.

She freezes and pushes Josie away, allowing some distance between them. Her aunt Freya is still talking on the phone but Hope can’t hear her.

Josie falls back onto the wall, panting slightly due to the mini assault, but all too proud of the chaos she has created. It shows in the way she moves her neck side to side and it’s oh so telling in the way her nose flares. 

Hope follows her, closing the distance again, but this time puts her own hand over Josie’s mouth in an attempt to mute the girl while Hope talks to her aunt. 

Hope starts to doubt that any of Josie’s friends are still here. Surely they would’ve heard all the noise right? Perhaps they left as soon as Hope’s friends left?

Josie still pathetically tries to talk, but Hope’s grip is firm and tight, completely inescapable.

At this point, Josie doesn’t even try to fight back, which Hope acknowledges is a little weird for the girl’s temper. 

“Hi Aunt Freya! It’s Hope again. Sorry about that.”

Josie leans in, trying to hear the conversation from the other side of the phone.

_Nosy little shit_ _—_

“Oh it’s okay, honey. You should get an enema. Maybe we should try what we did when you were a child? Remember, hot water down the bac—“ 

“No, no! I have to go. Thanks for the advice, love you!” Hope cuts her aunt off before her aunt could embarrass her any further. She hangs up the phone and makes a mental note to call Freya again later. She probably sounded like she was dying. 

She releases her hold on Josie, and backs away. She realizes that they’re both tucked into a corner in the room next to the front door. How did they get there? Thatfar into the corner?

Josie is still laughing, rather obnoxiously at this point. Hope doesn’t even have the energy to try to shut her up again. Hope wants to crack a smile as well, comprehending the full situation.

_Okay, that was kind of funny._

She knows that she can’t, however, it's a weakness and allows Josie to think she has one over her. 

“Wow, and that was just a guess...” Josie is now wearing a cocky smile, looking like she’s about to actually half-five herself. Hope looks to the ceiling, she couldn’t be more embarrassed. She eventually calms down enough to retaliate. The amusement of the circumstances has completely worn off, anger taking over in large doses. 

“Make fun of me all you want. At least _I_ don’t need a job cleaning up people’s shit all day,” Hope’s pride takes a harsh hit and grows tired of being played with like jelly all evening. Vengeance is on her tongue, infecting all her words, drowning all her sentences. 

It’s a low hit. A really low hit, Hope knows. She deplores it the second it comes out of her mouth. She’d never insult workers, no matter what kind of job level. She looks snobby and impertinent. However, her face shows no remorse.

Josie really hadn’t done anything too bad; Hope really hadn’t cared about the taller girl meddling in her and Aunt Freya’s business. However, Hope feels like she’s been pushed over and over again today, about to fall off a cliff unless she does something to stop it. 

Josie retreats, taking a step back, as if the dig had created a literal impact. She frowns, and the frown only deepens as she comes to complete comprehension of Hope’s meaning.

Maybe Josie didn’t fully comprehend just how unpleasant Hope can be. 

Hope sees the hurt on her face, but it quickly vanishes, scared to be so explicit and all showing. 

Lizzie walks in on them just in time.

“Oh, hey, Hope! What are you doing here?” Lizzie’s happy and Hope knows that she definitely did not hear their conversation or else she’d be murdering Hope herself. She’s fully aware of how protective siblings can be, as she’s seen first hand with Ethan and Maya. 

“I forgot my phone but I have it now...so I should get going. My friends have been waiting a long time.” Hope’s mood is shattered and it’s all too telling in her voice.

“Oh okay! Tell everyone I said bye,” Lizzie tells Hope and looks towards her twin sister. Josie looks rather deflated and Hope wishes the brunette doesn’t utter a word of what had happened to Lizzie after Hope leaves.

“Will do.” Hope starts towards the door, and pulls the knob. She waves goodbye to Lizzie and can’t seem to even meet Josie’s eyes in complete guilt of her own actions. The taller girl is having the same trouble herself, but her reasons are much more devastating. 

As she hears the door shut behind her, she walks onto the pavement, feeling a sort of emptiness pull at her chest. It fills throughout her body in a second’s time. She had been so careless and had finally submitted to her lowest point, a meanness she had not yet seen fully grasp her. 

She gets into the car, uttering an apology for taking so long.

“Where have you been? It’s been like forty minutes! Did they take you captive or something?” Maya sounds anxious, but she’s more angry than worried.

“Something to that effect.” 

  
  


-

  
  


Hope gets home and falls asleep within minutes. When she awakes the next day, she first checks her phone for notifications—much like she does every morning—and sees a new follower on Instagram. 

  
  


It’s weird for several reasons: she’s private, doesn’t tell anyone she’s even on the social media app, and she only has her friends, and celebrities of course, followed. 

  
  


She checks who it is and finds the name Lizzie Saltzman. 

  
  


Sebastian must’ve been up to this. It was either that or Lizzie saw Hope’s page from one of Sebastian’s tagged pictures. 

  
  


She followers her back, just to be kind, and just so Sebastian won’t bother her about it later. 

  
  


Hope’s already had the discussion, countless times, with her friends that she needs to get out there more and follow more people on the app. She regrets downloading it, anyways. She barely goes on it and doesn’t even have posts. Simply no use. 

  
  


The auburn-headed girl becomes interested and starts to scroll through Lizzie’s feed. The girl has almost a hundred posts and Hope soon scrolls through allof them. Half of them are of her friends and her sister, the others are selfies, pictures of trees, and different landscapes. 

  
  


Hope lies to herself that there’s nothing weird about it, when she zooms in on Josie’s face in almost _every_ picture she’s in. 

  
  


Hope also finds Josie tagged, but can’t seem to gather the courage to click on her profile. She closes the app, a significant time later, and gets up to eat breakfast. 

  
  


Curiosity ends up eating her alive and she’s on her phone again, this time clicking Josie’s profile without much thought or care. 

  
  


Hope regrets it the second she does it. She only has one picture, decidedly of herself, but when Hope ventures to Josie’s tagged pictures, her stomach eats away at itself and Hope feels it all too powerfully. 

  
  


She spots Penelope’s profile and almost all of herphotos are of the pair together. She wonders if it means what she thinks it means.

  
  


She doesn’t like the feeling that bubbles up in her throat, and she definitely can’t seem to recognize it when it beats anxiously against her heart. 

  
  


Curiosity _definitely_ killed the cat. 


	6. Chapter 6

The weekend arrives quicker than the blue-eyed girl would’ve liked. It’s dorm move-in day and Hope can’t be anxious enough. 

  
  


She hopes her new roommate isn’t annoying or a hardass or something else that will completely drive Hope mad. 

  
  


She’s already upset at the idea that the freshmen are forced to live in dorms the first two years. Yeah, yeah, she understands the whole creating diversity and implementing camaraderie between the new class thing, but really it seems absurd. 

  
  


She had already gotten over it a few weeks ago, but the peculiarity of it still spikes her. At the same time, she isn’t trying to care much about it because this is the same school her parents had gone to. It _has_ to be the best, from what she’s heard. If they were able to go through this, sure as hell she could. 

  
  


Since she’ll be living on campus the next few years, this month the lease on her apartment expires, and the past few days she’s been packing her stuff up in boxes. Half of it—the things she doesn’t need right away for college—will go back to her childhood home, and the other half is going with her.

  
  


It feels weird doing this alone, without parents. Hope had always imagined how her college move-in day experience would go, but this isn’t it at all. Her parents _should’ve_ been here, and it’s completely okay that Hope’s so bitter about it. 

  
  


Her situation is definitely not helping her because, the moment Hope gets out the car and steps foot on campus, the girl spots the Saltzman twins. She eyes Josie first and then sees Lizzie next to her. She hates that she identified Josie first. 

  
  


She ignores it and continues to look around the pair. It’s the couple behind them that makes her pause.

  
  


She recognizes Alaric behind Lizzie, but who’s the blonde behind Josie? Maybe her mom?

  
  


A sort of jealousy fills within her and disguises itself as a brush, pulling against her scalp, aching her in ways she never could’ve imagined would hurt. 

  
  


_That should’ve been me._

  
  


The feeling makes her loathe her own being. It makes her want to drop everything and drive back to her apartment, hide underneath the comfort that isn’t there, or stand in the kitchen where there are no reminders of what had happened—no pictures, no paintings, no memories. 

  
  


She gets a feeling that Lizzie or Josie’s about to spot her and that definitely can’t happen because their father will definitely recognize Hope. What makes the situation even more weird is how Lizzie never treated Hope bad, but Josie and her had become rivals in mere seconds.

  
  


The thought makes her tick, finding several excuses but unable to come up with a single cogent thought. 

  
  


Did their father tell them anything? At all? Do they know about Hope’s dad? 

  
  


The questions come tumbling into Hope’s mind, on the account of the arrival of Alaric Saltzman. 

  
  


She throws her parking permit on her car, hurrying across the campus quad area. 

  
  


She doesn’t look back. Not even when she hears Lizzie call out to say hello and _definitely_ not when she hears Alaric say, “Hope? As in Mikaelson?” 

  
  


If anything, it makes her walk faster, her legs trying to help Hope as her mind can’t seem to function.

  
  


She finally turns around a building, and when she knows she isn’t visible anymore, Hope pulls out her phone. She looks for the email regarding dorm information and finally is able to locate her own dorm hall. She grabs the card key out of her pocket, the one she picked up at the university housing center. 

  
  


Hope soon finds out that she’s the first one to arrive, as the walls are blank and the room is completely empty. She inhales a breath, _really_ breathing for the first time in ten minutes. 

  
  


She debates which bed to choose, and picks the farthest one from the door because, if any murderer comes in, they’ll get her roommate first. 

  
  


The auburn-headed girl realizes that she actually doesn’t have any of her stuff with her, as she left it all in the car during her rush to escape the awful situation she was about to be in. 

  
  


She closes the door, locking it, and heads back outside. 

  
  


She carefully walks through the campus, trying to get back to the parking lot. When she sees the coast is clear, she makes her way to her car. She unlocks the trunk and starts to take out the two boxes filled with her possessions. 

  
  


She feels weird that she only has two boxes of stuff. She had seen other students with whole ass luggages. But, Hope just knows she can’t get attached to things.

  
  


Just so they can bug her of the things and people that aren’t there anymore? Picture frames? No thanks. Books and journals? Hard pass. 

  
  


They’re all just reminders—reminders that she doesn’t need. 

  
  


Hope had just closed her trunk when she hears someone sneak up from behind her. From the reflection of the car, she notices that it's Maya. She turns around before Maya can even think about trying to scare her. 

  
  


“You’re pathetic. I heard you coming from a mile away,” Hope sneers at the girl who pouts in return.

  
  


“What? I thought I was doing good,” Maya states, as if she had a whole master plan.

  
  


“Maybe next time try not to stomp your feet with those loud ass heels,” Hope enlightens her, as if teaching her an important lesson.

  
  


“Whatever. But anyways, we’re all going to grab lunch if you wanna come.” Maya invites the shorter girl and Hope looks between her and the boxes. The invitation really does seem appealing, and Hope really is hungry.

  
  


“Have you guys even finished moving in?” Hope asks and she knows the answer but asks anyway. 

  
  


“Well, no...But we have all night for that. Come on,” Maya convinces her and Hope starts to put her boxed things back into her car. She follows Maya, who leads her to their friend group, all of whom are ready and waiting for Hope, as if they’d known she’d come. 

  
  


“What’s up, Hope?” Ethan sounds too excited, perhaps enjoying himself as college is about to start. 

  
  


“You know this whole year probably won’t be any fun, right?” Hope’s negativity erupts within the conversation. This year will probably be really competitive, and she’s _not_ looking forward to the freshman fifteen. 

  
  


“Yeah, but it’s college. Aren’t you excited for the parties?” Ethan’s yelling from the car window and Hope thinks this looks too much like a highschool jock movie. 

  
  


“It’s a business school,” Hope near deadpans her words, but her serious face takes on a smile as the happiness of her friends infects her as well. 

  
  


“What’s the plan? Where are we going?” Hope asks next.

  
  


“This place I heard of,” Maya says, and it’s definitely the wrong answer.

  
  


“No way. Last time you ‘ _heard’_ of a place to go, something bad happened.” Hope’s really joking, but there’s some truth to her accusation.

  
  


“I know I shouldn’t have done that, interfering with Josie and everything...but we got a relationship out of it,” Maya tries to find the good out of the bad, tries to pick the right words, but it all comes out wrong.

  
  


Sebastian interrupts before Hope can speak, “Wait…I don’t think I actually asked Lizzie to be my girlfriend yet.” 

  
  


“What do you mean you guys aren’t girlfriend and boyfriend? You’ve been dating for a week and you’ve had...sex!” Sam bursts and her voice musters during the last part of her assertion. 

  
  


“I haven’t formally asked her.” Sebastian looks scared, as if Sam would actually strike at him. 

  
  


“You don’t _just_ assume?” Sam says but Hope sides with Sebastian. It’s _never_ good to assume. 

  
  


“No! And it’s too soon. We’ve only been seeing each other for a week. You have to know that’s weird,” Sebastian maintains his position and the rest of the friends continue to watch the back and forth until Ethan butts in.

  
  


“Well, dude, have you guys even talked about it?” Ethan’s not mad, but his voice doesn’t present himself well enough. 

  
  


“No, I mean we really don't do much talking…” Sebastian starts to talk, but it’s cut off by a loud scream.

  
  


“Nope. No, we don’t need to know,” Sam utters and just like that the music is turned up. 

  
  


They finally arrive at the restaurant moments later and they all pile out of the car, as what happens with every hangout that occurs for the group. 

  
  


It’s a nice Mediterranean restaurant and they all get their food within minutes. 

  
  


As they’re all leaving, Hope glances around and can’t find something yet again, “Guys, where’s my phone?” 

  
  


“Not again,” Maya mumbles and Hope has half the mind to slap her. 

  
  


Hope really can’t be _this_ good at misplacing items. 

  
  


“You fatass, you’re probably sitting on it,” Hope accuses her and is right in her allegation when Maya stands up and therein lies the phone. 

  
  


“Wait, you never told us what happened with the phone a few nights ago.” 

  
  


“Uh…” Hope glances around the room, looking for a way to escape her current situation. It feels like she keeps being thrown in the same set of circumstances today. 

  
  


Her friends trap her in the booth and she immediately regrets sitting on the end. What was she thinking?

  
  


“I found it the moment I walked in,” Hope’s voice is too high and it raises way too many alarms.

  
  


“You liar! What took you so long to come out then?” Maya charges at her, seeing the lie float so obviously on the surface of her friend’s face.

  
  


“Okay, fine. I lost the challenge,” Hope relents and her friends look disappointed but Sebastian—Sebastian looks like he’s about to pop. There’s a vein of worry that’s throbbing so evidently on his forehead. 

  
  


“Hope, you promised me. What did you do?” 

  
  


“Lizzie didn’t even see anything of it. You’re fine and I don’t think Josie told her what happened. Or else you’d know, right?” Hope talks fast, and her words don’t help to relieve the reactions from her friends. 

  
  


However, Sebastian looks a bit better, because he _knows_ Lizzie would’ve mentioned something. The girl is not one to hold anything in. 

  
  


But Maya and Sam aren’t as able to come around. Ethan’s thoroughly confused, much like he always is. 

  
  


“What. Did. You. Do?” Maya is trying to assume the best of her friend, but she knows Hope can’t be too trusted with behaving acceptably. The harshness of her words make Hope wince, something she can allow around her true friends.

  
  


“I kind of insulted Josie,” Maya throws Hope a pointed look so she carries on, “...Okay, I really insulted her.” 

  
  


“You had one job, Hope! Was it really that hard?” Maya’s frustrated, Hope knows. But at the same time, Maya can’t really blame her. She had seen the way Josie was provoking her the whole night. 

  
  


“Oh, stop scolding me. If you were in my situation, you’d do the same,” Hope seethes, now angry at her friends for treating her like a child.

  
  


“Well, Hope, what _is_ your situation?” Maya’s ceaseless in her fire and it only aggravates Hope further. However, it’s not a question. It’s a poke, and it jabs at her heart and tears apart the skin surrounding it.

  
  


“Oh, screw you!” The restaurant has now gone quiet, and Hope shoves past her friends. Maya has been the one and only friend that has been constantly confronting Hope on her crap. She loves it but now, it’s the only thing driving her anger. 

  
  


Hope hears Sebastian apologize to the other diners and rolls her eyes.

  
  


They all follow after her, and the door makes a single ring: the only sound indisputable.

  
  


“I’m your ride, you dumbass!” Maya screams, now shouting in the parking lot. 

  
  


“I know!” 

  
  


“Hope, where are you going then?!” Sam finally butts in, and Ethan starts to chase after Hope. 

  
  


Hope’s creating the biggest temper tantrum ever, she acknowledges, but noticing it doesn’t stop her from continuing to do it. 

  
  


“To the car, duh.” Her body is turned around and when Ethan’s hand grasps her shoulder, she shrugs him off. He follows her to the car and attempts to open the door for her and she mumbles, “Thank you,” before crossing her arms and turning away from everyone.

  
  


Ethan doesn’t deserve it, she acknowledges _that_ too. But she can’t help herself from continuing to run herself rampant on the warpath. When Hope Mikaelson gets mad, she gets _mad._

  
  


They all get into the car and when the silence becomes too deafening, Sebastian turns up the radio from the passenger seat. Hope continues to look out the window and she feels all of her friends take turns to look at her. She doesn’t bother to say anything to anyone, too caught up in the moment still. 

  
  


-

  
  


The friends have all arrived back to the campus, just a few hours after sunset. 

  
  


Maya drops Hope off in front of her own car and goes to park. Hope doesn’t bother to wait up for her friends, deciding just to finish unpacking and moving into her dorm. Hope unpacks her boxes, for the second time, and starts to head towards her dormitory. 

  
  


Her roommate definitely should’ve moved in by now and Hope’s apprehension takes over her anger. The fury has presently dissipated and she’s only sad. 

  
  


Anxiety builds up in her as she anticipates her new roommate. She’s never been good with making friends. This probably would be disastrous as well, much like her whole day has been. 

  
  


She unlocks the door, pushing past the entrance. Hope picks up the boxes from the outside that she had momentarily dropped to get her key out of her pocket. 

  
  


She drags them in, and gets a first glance around the room. She’s glad her roommate had chosen the bed closest to the door—a decision she couldn’t make as she was dragged off to lunch. 

  
  


Getting the bed farthest from the room is the only good thing that has happened to the blue-eyed girl today. 

  
  


The first bed has a dark-colored comforter, and the wall is decorated with pictures and posters. Hope doesn’t look too closely as to not invade the person’s space. She hears the shower running and concludes that her new roommate is in the bathroom. 

  
  


Hope places her boxes on top of her bed, which is really only a mattress at the moment. 

  
  


After finally being able to sit down, Hope sighs, trying to feel some sort of comfort in the chaotic day. 

  
  


She inhales a scent, an all too familiar scent. She can’t place it right away and continues to breathe in and out, trying to connect a person to the scent. It makes her anxious—it’s _way_ too familiar. 

  
  


She realizes that it smells like the blanket—the same blanket she used during the small get-together a few nights ago. 

  
  


_Who’s damn blanket?_

  
  


The possibilities rush her through her mind, but a glance at the clock on the nightstand next to Hope interrupts any further thinking.

  
  


It’s late, and she needs to unpack. 

  
  


She takes out her pillows and blankets, making her bed first. The rest of the items are necessities only: chargers, earphones, bathroom stuff, etc. She looks around the room and the two sides look _so_ different. Hope has nothing on her own wall, the whiteness sharpening the whole personality of the room. 

  
  


The contrast is so noticeable that Hope starts to think it's worth it to run to the store to buy a few signs or pictures of someone else’s family. Just to fit in. 

  
  


She hopes that her new roommate doesn’t think it’s weird. But other than that, she doesn’t pay it much attention. 

  
  


She’s still fixing the bed, when she hears the door unlock behind her. It opens, but she doesn’t turn around right away. 

  
  


“No _fucking_ way.” 

  
  


Hope hears a voice and cringes. The familiar scent and voice now all matching: Josie Saltzman. 

  
  


Hope shifts her position, finally getting the strength to reverse her stance. 

  
  


She meets Josie’s eyes and gulps. The girl across from her is very well having the same reaction. She sees it in the way Josie’s eyes clutter shut and then open up again, as if imagining herself in some type of nightmare. 

_Oh god._

  
  


“You’re definitely in the wrong room. You should leave,” Josie says and Hope notices she’s in that white robe, _again._ She looks away, feeling like it’s disrespectful to continue staring. Josie’s voice is indifferent, and somehow that hurts Hope more than if the brunette had spit on her. 

  
  


“It’s eleven at night,” Hope tries, like really tries, but her voice still comes out soft. She had meant to deadpan it and let it come off as a joke, but it fails. She raises an eyebrow at the girl in question and finally finds it in herself to meet Josie’s eyes. 

  
  


After a moment passes, Hope starts again, “But you’re right. There’s definitely an issue. I mean, I even requested not to get roomed with yo—”

  
  


“You put in a request not to get me?” She can’t even continue her sentence because Josie starts to talk, her voice fierce and poisonous. She sounds upset and mean all at the same time and Hope wonders if the taller girl still remembers what the last thing Hope had said to her was. 

  
  


At least the fire is back in Josie’s voice, though. It felt better than to be burned by _nothing._

  
  


Hope takes a step back, but doesn’t allow herself to sit on her bed. Josie would then be twice her size and could even cower over her like a giant. No way. 

“Well technically it was for both Saltzman twins and—” Hope is cut off, yet again. 

  
  


“Oh that makes everything so much better! Thanks for clarifying!” She snarks and Josie’s bitterness affects Hope once again as the pair continue yet another fight. 

  
  


“You’re welcome,” Hope bites back and a silence fills the room. The two are in a contest, whoever looks away first shows weakness. 

  
  


“I have to change!” Josie yells suddenly, trying to fill up the air with as much noise as possible. 

  
  


“I have to take a shower!” Hope can’t help but call back, even though there’s no need for it. 

  
  


Hope takes her toiletries and heads towards the bathroom. As she closes the door, she watches as Josie sifts through her drawers messily, exasperation consuming her. She kind of feels bad, but it’s still laughable at the same time. 

  
  


Hope’s shower takes all of two minutes because Josie left the water extremely cold. She’s mad about it, but doesn’t decide to complain audibly about it. She’ll bring it up later. 

  
  


She’s about to jump out of the shower when she realizes that she didn’t bring a towel, or clothes for that matter. She’s two seconds away from hanging herself with the curtains, but then realizes that Josie would be the one to inevitably find her so there goes that option. 

  
  


She looks for her phone—perhaps she could call Maya. But then the auburn-haired girl remembers: her phone is charging next to her new bed, and she isn’t exactly friends with Maya at the moment. 

  
  


It’s like thirty minutes later and Hope doesn’t want Josie to think she’s playing with herself or something, “Uh, Josie? Can you bring me a towel?” She’s completely mortified and her voice is _so_ awkward. It sounds like a knife has scratched her throat dry, forcing any leftover words to come spilling out of her mouth. 

  
  


A bout of silence reappears and she ends up having to ask the question over again a few minutes later when Josie doesn’t answer. It’s humiliating and Hope thinks that it's payback for what she had said to the other girl a few nights prior. 

  
  


Seconds later, Hope thinks she has irritated Josie enough to speak with her incessant questioning when the brunette starts to talk on the other side of the bathroom door. 

  
  


“Sorry, I’m asleep.” 


	7. Chapter 7

An hour passes by after Hope calls out for the hundredth time, and receives no answer for the hundredth time. The girl concludes that Josie had definitely fallen asleep or something. 

  
  


She’s still in the bathroom and now cold as ever. Although she stepped out from the shower stall a long time ago, it’s as if the coldness of the water continues to affect her, the barrier of the shower head completely unhelpful. 

  
  


Her throat is now sore from calling out for so long and she’s shivering.

  
  


The air of the room has now turned chilly and completely unsympathetic to Hope’s needs. It’s like rain that never stops pouring—all you can do is watch the downfall. 

  
  


Hope had even started tearing apart the bathroom, looking through all the cabinets, trying to find something to cover herself with. 

  
  


Did Josie really not have a back-up towel or something in here?

  
  


Hope realizes this is probably karma for what she had said earlier to the brunette. A boomerang always returns back to the person who threw it, she knows.

  
  


Moments later, when Hope can’t seem to hear a sound, she opens the door. She pokes only her head out, not wanting to expose any other part of her body, She looks around and opens the door slightly more when she notices no one is in the room. But the lights are on. 

  
  


At least Josie had _that_ decency.

  
  


Walking around naked in the dark is something Hope never wants to experience.

  
  


Hope quickly runs to her bed, finding clothes and a towel, and hurries back to the bathroom. She knows Josie could come back at any moment and it’s better to play it safe. 

  
  


She feels pain soar up in her chest at the idea that the girl would leave her like that for an hour. It stings like a thousand bees. It doesn’t just hurt like normal pain would, but it fires throughout her whole body. It tries to signal something to Hope’s mind, that there’s danger in just recognizing she was hurt by the brown-eyed girl. But it’s too late.

  
  


It’s not a warning; the danger is already here. And it spreads and spreads and spreads. 

  
  


It’s a burning pain, as if the bees are still there, floating on top of her skin, mocking her. Hope looks in the mirror. 

  
  


The pain sounds much like the voice of her father—perhaps trying to tell the girl to stop. To stop this distasteful mess of a situation and do right by him. 

  
  


But what is right? Isn’t this what he wanted? For Hope to get into this college? Why does he have to meddle in her life still? Even when he’s dea—

  
  


She can’t continue to think so negatively about him. He was always just protecting her. 

  
  


It’s just protection. That’s it. 

  
  


_That’s it._

  
  


She’s finally fully clothed and able to drag a brush through her hair when she settles down on her bed. She’s turned to the wall—just in case—she falls asleep. She feels weird knowing she’ll have to sleep so close to Josie from now on. It excites her in a way she would’ve never imagined but torments her in a way she’s always known. 

  
  


It’s now early into midnight and Hope has already turned off the lights. She’s begging her body to fall asleep, just so she won’t have to face the girl. A part of her feels like the brunette went off and slept at Lizzie’s or even Penelope’s, if her mind can care to wander that far. 

  
  


She’s still thinking about it when Josie comes storming in, laughing a little too loud for Hope’s tired ears. 

Hope ignores it, trying to act fast asleep or even paralyzed. It seems as though Josie’s eyes land on the other girl because just like that, Josie’s loud voice evolves into nothingness. 

  
  


Hope wonders what she’s laughing at, if Josie’s brought in a friend, or if she’s even drunk.

  
  


“Yeah don’t worry. I’m safe and in my room,” Josie whispers and she appears to be talking to someone on the phone, “No, no. Mikaelson’s asleep. Do you wanna come over so we can suffocate her with a pillow or something?” 

  
  


_That_ gets Hope’s attention. She jumps quickly out of bed. 

  
  


“I’ll kill you before you can even touch me, you sly little—”

  
  


Josie pushes a button on her phone, perhaps hanging up, and Hope ponders if she was even on a phone call in the first place.

  
  


“I knew you were awake!” Josie turns on the lights and examines Hope, who’s now standing next to her own bed.

  
  


“How can I sleep with your loud-ass laughter in my ear?!” Hope’s movement is quick and now she’s only a foot away from the brown-haired girl. She pauses and steps back. She notices that Josie is still trapped next to the door. 

  
  


It’s only then when Hope really sees what Josie’s wearing. She has a black, tight dress on with a matching hoodie over as if _that_ would help to cover anything. Her eyes are glazed over, but not in a drug induced way, more in an exhilarated type of way. It catches Hope’s attention and now she can’t seem to draw back any further.

  
  


Her hair is half-up, half-down and Hope imagines her as a princess, coming home after a long night with the prince. She banishes the thought from her mind when she realizes the insanity of the image, which is very much acting like a banner of neurons for show-and-tell. 

  
  


_This isn’t a fairytale._

  
  


“Oh, please, I had to listen to you whine for like thirty minutes!” Josie complains and her face pouts involuntarily, but she seems too indifferent to actually present any emotion. Hope watches as the look she had been so perplexed about finally vanishes. 

  
  


She thinks about asking the girl, but the question is weird and _definitely_ not up for discussion.

  
  


“Well, I was suffering for an hour and a half!” Hope’s words come out terribly angry and she regrets mentioning the outcome of the situation, although Josie doesn’t even catch onto it. Who hides in the bathroom for more than an hour? If she wasn’t so preoccupied with her own embarrassment, surely she could’ve heard Josie leave.

  
  


“Well, I have to be your roommate. I think anyone would agree with me when I say that’s the suffering of a lifetime.” The words come too clipped, as if they had just been sharpened with a knife. 

  
  


Josie’s voice sounds cruel but unbothered, like their argument wasn’t affecting her at all. 

  
  


“You want your own room that much? Fine, have it!” Hope stomps to the door, scuffling past Josie’s shoulder much like the first night they met. She’s leaving but can’t even remember the fact that she doesn’t have any of her stuff with her. 

  
  


Whatever, she can get it later.

  
  


There’s a look on Josie’s face, like she’s surprised or relieved at Hope’s actions. She breathes in a short breath.

  
  


“Wait.” 

  
  


It comes out soft enough to garner Hope’s attention again. It stills her movements, as her hand lies on the knob, ready to open the door. She can’t strain herself to face Josie again. She’s looking down at her feet, a feeling of hope rubbing itself against her socks. 

  
  


A moment passes by, and it feels like an eternity followed by silence. She can hear Josie open her mouth and then close it. 

  
  


Hope turns around, distracted by the all too thick silence. 

  
  


“I want a roommate. I just didn’t want you.” There’s a nonchalance about the way Josie says it. Like she can’t care less, like she’s completely indifferent to the situation, but there’s something deeper there in the way Josie called her back in the first place. Somehow, the words hurt Hope more than if she would’ve said it with hatred.

  
  


Because with hatred, one has to care. But indifference, that’s a total lack of feelings. It’s a lack of interest; it’s _nothing_. 

  
  


Hope doesn’t know what to do. Does she leave? Does she stay? 

  
  


She’s not wanted here. 

  
  


An awkwardness feels the room and Hope looks up at the ceiling, feeling a certain brunette’s eyes burn into her. 

  
  


“I’ll be back. I’m gonna go out and...Yeah,” Hope says, her voice taking on a certain impassivity. 

  
  


She doesn’t owe Josie any explanation. Although she’s not quite sure why she’s still talking to the girl. 

  
  


Hope looks towards the girl, but she doesn’t say anything and the expression on her face is imperceptible. 

  
  


She walks over to the nightstand next to her bed, grabbing her phone and taking her slides with her because she only has socks on.

  
  


_God,_ was she gonna leave with just socks? Hope’s brain feels thoroughly messed with. 

  
  


Josie’s already in the bathroom by the time she leaves their shared room. 

  
  


Where had Josie been? The question shakes her for a second time that night.

  
  


Her notifications are filled with text messages and missed calls, from _all_ of her friends. She’s even surprised when she sees a text from Maya. She really has to talk to the girl. 

  
  


Hope’s definitely starting to think that there was a party she missed out on. 

  
  


She sends a text to her friends, letting them know to meet her in the parking lot. She knows that they’re all still awake as one of the texts from Ethan was as recent as forty minutes ago. 

  
  


She waits about twenty-five minutes sitting on a bench until her friends all show up, and they’re _all_ together. She’s now completely convinced there was a party.

  
  


“I’m sorry for acting up earlier but I wanted to talk to you guys,” Hope starts to talk when she’s face to face with her friends. They don’t look mad, just a little worried.

  
  


“We’ll talk later,” Maya tells Hope and throws her a pointed look. Hope nods, understanding right away. 

  
  


“First, was there a party?” Hope asks and her friends immediately start talking, all stumbling words on top of each other. 

  
  


“I knew we never should’ve trusted her. _T_ _hat_ bitch!” Sam says and Hope becomes confused.

  
  


Sebastian turns on Sam, “You’re the one that made us all trust her! We were telling you that Hope would never miss out on a party!”

  
  


“Well, she was mad at us, so it was kind of a little persuasive!” Sam calls out back. 

  
  


“Guys, guys, I’m right here! What are you talking about?” Hope interrupts her friends and they continue to look guilty. It’s starting to freak her out.

  
  


“I’ll explain it!” Maya starts when everyone starts talking over each other again, “Okay, so there was a party at Penelope’s dorm hall, who is my new roommate by the way, and she invited all of us, which was _really_ sweet by the way.”

  
  


“Maya! You’re getting off topic, again. And I mean, if you’re her roommate then she’d have to invite you because it’s your dorm room…” Hope trails off and Maya comes to the realization and frowns. 

  
  


“Whatever. Okay, so Josie arrived and she came up to us and told us that you said you didn’t want to come—” 

  
  


“You believed her? She’s _evil_!” Hope starts because her friends should’ve known better.

  
  


“Well, we did think it was weird...And you guys are roommates now? ‘Cause that’s what she said,” Maya continues on and tells her the rest. 

  
  


After Maya’s done sharing everything, Ethan, Sam, Sebastian, and her all start apologizing to Hope who, in response, rolls her eyes, “It’s not your fault, guys.”

  
  


After the apologies come to a stop, Hope gossips, “Okay, so, Josie basically forced me inside the room. I swear she’s trying to kill me!” 

  
  


Sam and Maya start shouting, wanting to know exactly what happened, while Sebastian and Ethan are in their own conversation. 

  
  


“I kind of exaggerated...But I took a shower and forgot my towel, so I had nowhere to go and she just left me like that but didn’t tell me so I thought she was still in the room. And of course, I couldn’t go out _naked_ ,” Hope rambles on and looks around the parking lot to make sure no one else is listening in on them. 

  
  


“Why didn’t you just call us? Oh...nevermind,” Maya says which causes Sam to start to laugh but Hope facepalms. Was she not listening? 

  
  


However, Hope will fill them in at another time, it’s already late and they should all get to bed. 

  
  


“You guys just need to help me get revenge,” Hope tells them but Maya looks a little hesitant. 

  
  


“Maybe you should just be the better person, Hope,” Maya begins but any other sentence is cut short by the onset of Sam and Hope’s laughter. 

  
  


“That’s a good one. You’re so funny, Maya,” Sam says and pokes Maya in the shoulder, almost bent over in an uncontrollable fit of laughter. When she finally calms down, along with the blue-eyed girl next to her, she continues, “We’ll help you, Hope. Don’t worry.” 

  
  


Hope nods, a smile still on her face, “Any chance, I can sleep over at one of your rooms tonight?” When neither Sam or Maya replies, Hope goes on, “Didn’t think so.” 

  
  


She says goodbye to her friends, hugging them all, and heads back to her dorm.

  
  


As she silently unlocks the door, Hope sees that the lights are still on. When she comes in, she’s met with a furious Josie. It’s unexpected and completely irrational.

  
  


“Where were you?!” The girl looks quite anxious and _too_ small on her bed. Her eyes are glazed with wetness and there’s a darkness in them that Hope’s never seen before. It scares her more than if the brunette had been harsh with her. 

  
  


“What’s wrong with you? Go to sleep,” Hope bites out, feeling a certain agitation crawl up her shoulders, scratching her back only where it hurts. 

  
  


“You can’t just l-leave and then not...God!” Josie is incomprehensible, and Hope can’t seem to fathom what has brought this on so suddenly. 

  
  


“You literally pulled this shit on _me_ a few hours ago, but you’re the only one who’s allowed to get upset?” Hope yells and _that_ quiets the girl down. 

  
  


It isn’t fair that every single word Hope utters or every single thing that Hope does makes the girl angry. 

  
  


“That’s different,” the girl whispers but Hope hears it loud and clear. 

It makes Hope go crazy and soon she’s hysterical, “Different? Leaving me alone for an hour and a half when I simply asked you for a _towel_? Or how about telling all of my friends that I couldn’t go, when really, I had no clue there was even a party in the first place?”

  
  


Hope’s words are replaced with venom and she’s in front of Josie in a second. Josie’s now backed up into the frame of her own bed. The brunette shoves Hope away from her, as if trying to keep some distance between them. It makes Hope even more upset because isn’t this what she wanted? To argue over nothing? 

  
  


“You deserved that!” Josie’s once somber mood now fades away, the remnants of it twinkling in her eyes. The words barely escape her mouth as Josie’s teeth are gritted like a clamp, only getting more enraged after each pause. 

  
  


Hope wills herself to calm down, she feels like punching her or something. She relaxes after a moment, “Okay.” 

  
  


Somehow, that doesn’t seem to help the situation _at_ all.

  
  


“What do you mean ‘okay’? You can’t just—You’re unbelievable!” Irritation finds Josie rather quickly, polishing her up like a mannequin. 

  
  


“What do you want me to say? Oh, I’m sorry, I’ve been a really bad person, let me just get on my knees and apologize!” Hope’s more than delirious now and she even moves to start bending down, fully trying to taunt or mock the girl. She stops when she knows Josie has gotten the point. 

  
  


When Josie doesn’t move, Hope continues on, further trying to trouble the girl, “What? Are you taking your anger out on me because you and Penelope got in a fight or something? Aww, how sad!” 

  
  


The retaliation elicits _something_ in Josie because she starts to smile, rather insanely, “Actually we’re doing great!” Josie goes to move her shirt and for some reason Hope can’t look away. It looks like an animal has attacked her neck and the realization bothers Hope more than she thought it would. 

  
  


Hickeys. 

  
  


They’re fresh; Hope’s experience in highschool could tell her that much. 

  
  


Hope’s pride acts oblivious, “Did someone punch you in the throat or something?” 

  
  


Josie rolls her eyes and her crud smile still hasn’t been replaced. She clears her throat, coming closer to Hope, “About a hundred times.” 

  
  


Josie looks a little too proud and the look doesn’t bode so well with Hope’s eyes. The blue-eyed girl’s eyes close momentarily, as if shielding the girl from anymore unnecessary pain. 

  
  


Hope has to do everything not to wince, and her heart thuds painfully against the skin surrounding it. It feels like death, but over and over again. Like death itself is trying to persuade the girl to come over—that it’s only better there.

  
  


She changes the subject partially, trying to lessen what she’s feeling, “Maya is roommates with Penelope by the way.” 

  
  


“I know.” 

  
  


“Then you’d know how easy it would be for me to get in their room,” Hope stands next to her bed, fixing the blankets to where they’d be most comfortable. 

  
  


“Is that a threat?” Josie’s demeanor panics, but really Hope would never do anything too drastic. 

  
  


“I don’t know. Is it?” Hope pulls back, sending a condescending look towards the girl who seems to be mirroring her actions. 

  
  


The conversation ends there and Hope slides into her bed and becomes grateful when Josie finally turns off the lights. She turns towards the wall but feels eyes on the back of her head. 

  
  


She wonders if Josie’s facing her, but chooses not to find out. They’d probably start throwing things at each other. 

  
  


The silence isn’t comforting and doesn’t put Hope to sleep like it normally does. 

  
  


She ends up not getting much sleep at all. 


	8. Chapter 8

Hope wakes up to the slamming of a door. An indent is in the sheets of Josie’s bed, alarming Hope of the girl’s departure.

  
  


_Josie_. 

  
  


Hope checks the time—it’s only seven-thirty. What was the girl doing up so early? And on a Sunday morning?

  
  


Hope’s never been irritated so quickly. It's like Josie was trying to wake her up.

She tries to go back asleep, but is unable to.

  
  


By the time she finds the motivation to get up and out of her bed, an hour has already passed. 

  
  


She has a lot to do today. Tomorrow is the first day of college and she has two essays to complete and a book to finish reading. Luckily, she had been reading it almost everyday and now only has ninety pages to finish. 

  
  


She needs caffeine, though. She opts to head to the store, instead of the coffee shop where an all too familiar person might be. Hope can’t take the risk. In her decision, she fails to remember that there are _other_ coffee places to go to. 

  
  


After she grabs six energy drinks and an entire carton of iced-coffee from the store, she begins to busy herself with her assignments. 

  
  


She quickly becomes distracted, and within three hours, she calls Maya and invites her over to the dorm. She knows that they need to talk, and soon—especially after their argument yesterday. 

  
  


Somehow, Maya manages to arrive ten minutes later, but she looks like utter shit. Her hair resembles a bird’s nest, there are bags the size of watermelons under her eyes, and she looks like she’s wearing a paper bag. Upon closer inspection, she is actually wearing a brown nightgown that appears to be something out of the twentieth century. 

  
  


However, she does not immediately recognize the girl in front of her as Maya. She swings open the door and raises her eyebrows, “Sorry, this is a dorm room. The homeless shelter is down the street.”

  
  


The stranger in front of her audibly gasps. “It’s called a hangover, dipshit.”

  
  


The familiar voice registers in Hope’s mind almost instantly, “Maya?” 

  
  


She examines the other girl once again, suddenly glad that she hadn’t gone to the party if this was the aftermath. 

  
  


“It’s three o’clock. When’d you wake up?” Hope’s astonished. 

  
  


“Uh...ten minutes ago when you called,” Maya trails on, looking anywhere but Hope. 

  
  


The girl shakes her head, but laughs nonetheless. 

  
  


An awkwardness fills the room. Now that the banter is over, it’s easy to remember why they’re together in the first place. 

  
  


Maya goes to sit alongside her friend, on Hope’s bed, when Hope stops her. “No, go sit on Josie’s bed. You look dirty, plus I just did my bed.” 

  
  


Maya knows that it’s mostly just a joke because surely she can’t look _that_ bad.

  
  


Wrong.

  
  


“Look, Hope, I’m sorry about yesterday. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Maya’s sincere in her body language and Hope understands. 

  
  


“I know, I’m sorry I got so upset. I shouldn’t have caused such a big scene,” Hope looks down, the apology hard to come by. 

  
  


“Yeah, I can agree with you on that…” Maya jokes, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Hey!” 

  
  


“I’m joking, but really I _am_ sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did. It was completely out of line,” Maya finishes and begins to look around the room. 

  
  


“Wow, your room is so much bigger than mine.” 

  
  


“I can assure you that they’re the exact same room,” Hope says unconvincingly. Their room _was_ pretty big. But she was sure that dorm rooms are all the same. Right?

  
  


“Sure, so, where’s your roommate?” Maya asks, bringing up Josie yet again. Maya is starting to bring the girl up almost _every_ time they talk. 

  
  


“I actually don’t know. She left pretty early, so maybe she went to work or something,” Hope answers, a little too interested in the conversation. 

  
  


“Oh okay. How is it?” 

  
  


“How’s what?” 

  
  


“Being her roommate,” Maya clarifies. 

  
  


“Weird and confusing. But mostly horrible,” Hope sums up, not even explaining herself.

  
  


“Well, that’s enough information,” Maya’s voice is thickly laced with sarcasm and it takes a while for Hope to catch on as she’s still, somehow, trying to finish her assignment. She stops after reading the same sentence over twice. 

“When I got back last night, she yelled at me for coming back so late. With the way she reacted, you would have thought I died,” Hope says, as if her reasons for disliking the girl couldn’t be more obvious. 

  
  


“Huh...weird.” 

  
  


“What do you think?” Hope asks, needing any type of answer to fulfill her puzzlement. 

  
  


Maya has a clue, but fake guesses so her friend could stop overthinking on the issue. 

  
  


_She cares about you._

  
  


“Maybe she was just worried.” 

  
  


“You’re right. She probably thought I got kidnapped or something and didn’t want to be blamed for it,” Hope concludes, happy with that account of the situation. 

  
  


On cue, Hope hears a shuffling at the door and in comes Josie carrying a few bags. Hope _almost_ gets up to help her. The brown-eyed girl sees Maya before she notices Hope and yelps, “Shit, you scared me!” 

“Happens to the best of us,” Hope mumbles, remembering that the same exact thing had occurred to her an hour before. The comment doesn’t reach anyone’s ears. 

  
  


“Wow, Maya, you look like a paper bag.” Josie’s downright amused at the girl’s appearance. 

  
  


“That’s what I thought!” Hope moves to half-five Josie when she remembers that they aren’t exactly friends. She drops her hand, awkwardly falling back onto her bed. 

  
  


Josie finally acknowledges the auburn-headed girl, but her smile seems forced and acts only as a show for Maya. 

  
  


But Maya is all too aware of their fights to fall for it. She looks between the two, wondering what Hope will do. 

  
  


“Hey,” Hope finally agrees on and when she’s ignored, she decides to never greet the girl again.

  
  


“Well...I should get going,” Maya declares, getting up to leave. 

  
  


“No!” The room runs silent and Hope clears her throat to try again, “I mean, why so early? Weren’t you gonna help me with my work? _Remember_?” Hope raises her eyebrows, hoping Maya _understands_ and gets the clue. 

  
  


But all of a sudden, Maya has turned to a child, unable to comprehend anything, much less a friend secretly asking for help. 

  
  


“Sorry, sis, you’re on your own with that.” And Hope can’t even do anything to persuade the girl to stay as Maya is already one step out the door. 

  
  


Another reason Hope had asked Maya over was so she didn’t have to be in another awkward situation with her new roommate. Of course to talk as well, she wasn’t _completely_ using her friend. 

  
  


After the door slams shut, Josie eyes Hope before turning and heading towards the bathroom. Hope can’t help but watch her as she goes. 

  
  


Hope concludes that Josie had been at work, if the cap and apron now on her bed have anything to say about it. 

  
  


Hope glances toward the bathroom door before refocusing her attention on one of her essays. 

  
  


It’s minutes later when she hears singing. Hope can’t even name the song or much less distinguish the words from each other. Josie’s voice sounds like a lullaby, ridding Hope of her growing headache. It was insanely alluring; a pleasant sound in all of the stillness. 

  
  


Hope tries to focus on what the girl is singing, perhaps to throw it back at her later or, in reality, look up the song. 

  
  


The water starts to run and Hope has never noticed how thin the walls are. She could _hear_ everything. She hears Josie’s little breaths in between the humming, she hears the girl sighing as the shower head runs. She hears _everything_. 

  
  


It feels like she’s almost standing aside the girl.

  
  


Something pools low in Hope’s abdomen; a certain heat pulling at her stomach.

  
  


She’s weirded out in an instant at the unwanted feeling.

It creates _very_ unfortunate images in her mind. It infects her mind like a bacterial infection, eating away at her brain tissue. 

  
  


Hope stands up from her position, once perched at the desk, and runs over to her bag. She needs a distraction.

The auburn-haired girl grabs her earbuds, connecting them to her phone in a mere second. 

  
  


Hope blasts the volume and her ears become annoyed, irritated at the distasteful sound, wanting the noise from before. 

  
  


She feels like a pervert, listening to the girl like that, but can’t help it when she takes her earbuds out, wanting to know if the brunette is still singing. 

  
  


She isn’t.

  
  


The knowledge allows Hope to carry on, trying desperately to bury her suggestive thoughts. 

  
  


It doesn’t help when Josie comes out of the shower, wearing a pair of black shorts that Hope can’t even see as her over-sized t-shirt covers it whole. 

  
  


She stops typing on her laptop, and takes out her book. Perhaps a change of focus will favor her more. 

  
  


She takes out her earphones, adjusting to the silence of the room.

  
  


She’s reading, but the words can’t seem to make sense anymore and Hope’s more lightheaded than when she even began. 

  
  


“You haven’t flipped a page in ten minutes.” 

  
  


Hope hears it from behind her and finds Josie lying down leisurely on her own bed. 

  
  


She turns her eye-line back to the wall, trying to stand her ground, because looking at the girl isn’t the best option right now. 

  
  


“I’m distracted.” 

  
  


Hope doesn’t explain, leaving her answer open to interpretation. 

  
  


“Well, obviously, but why?” Josie probes and it’s dangerously close to Hope’s discomfort limit. 

  
  


Hope can feel Josie’s eyes on her, and they feel like glue—sticking everywhere. 

  
  


Josie sounds curious but all-knowing at the same time and the blue-eyed girl wonders if Josie somehow knows of Hope’s secret listening. 

  
  


Hope wills herself to face the girl and decides to change the subject, for her own sake, “How was work?”

  
  


Josie allows it, but not without an indiscreet and arrogant smile, “I don’t think you care.” 

  
  


“You're right. I don’t.” With that, Hope goes back to reading—not reading—and grows more irritated when Josie laughs in her ear moments later. 

  
  


“You’re still not reading…” It sounds like a complaint and a taunt all at the same time, but Hope has no clue what Josie’s complaining about. This isn’t even her assignment.

  
  


“I think we’ve established that.”

  
  


“What are you even working on?” Josie gets up from her bed, walks over to Hope, and takes the book from her hands before Hope can even hold on to it correctly. Josie flips through the pages and Hope doesn’t even have the energy to chase after the girl, surrendering her book completely. 

  
  


“Summer assignment,” Hope seethes but the anger doesn’t reach her face. 

  
  


“But freshmen don’t have summer assignments,” Josie remains confused and Hope guesses it’s because the girl hasn’t read the title of the book yet.

  
  


“It’s an elective class, not a business or mandatory one,” Hope explains, feeling uncomfortable on her chair. 

  
  


“Painting genres? Interesting…” Josie trails off, reading the book title. The way she reads through it, skipping but holding on to every single page, irks Hope. 

  
  


Josie sits on top of Hope’s desk and Hope can’t help but feel like the girl is trying to get closer to her. 

  
  


“Your ass is on my stuff,” Hope huffs, trying to feign annoyance but it’s the emotion furthest from her heart. 

  
  


“Oh, sorry,” Josie says but the girl doesn’t bother to move from her position. 

  
  


“Why art?” Josie questions after a moment of stillness. 

  
  


It’s the first moment Hope hears any sincerity in Josie’s tone. It’s the first time they aren’t yelling at each other and it’s the first time Josie is calm and isn’t aggravated. She sounds _actually_ interested, and Hope leans in slightly at the resonance. 

  
  


However, it lasts all of two seconds as Hope finds herself vulnerable, especially when Josie looks at her like that, expecting some sort of answer. 

  
  


“Mind your business,” Hope whiffs, taking her book back. She doesn’t go as far as pushing Josie off of her desk though. She stands up, turning away from Josie. She stalks towards her bed, climbing on top of it. 

  
  


“Buzz-kill much?” 

  
  


Hope decides not to answer her, already distracting herself with _really_ reading the book this time. 

  
  


“How do you do that?” Josie remarks, sitting on her own bed. 

  
  


“Do what?” 

  
  


“There are no words coming out of your mouth but you’re _still_ horrible.” It looks like Josie can’t help it, like she’s exhausted and just needs to get it out. She’s exasperated as agitation pulls at her throat and anger bubbles around her mouth. 

  
  


“I’m horrible? You’re not such a prize yourself,” Hope mutters, her heart starting to pound at the insult. 

  
  


Josie breathes in and Hope thinks the girl looks like the shore—her emotions running like water, just waiting to meet the sand. 

  
  


Is Hope the sand? 

  
  


Josie is contemplating what to do, Hope is sure of it. The girl is stuck in one place, but her hands move excitedly, itching for reprisal. 

  
  


When Josie finally makes a decision, she starts towards the door, “I have somewhere to be so, uh...Maybe you won’t be as _distracted_ anymore.” 

  
  


Hope watches as the girl leaves, aching to say more but feeling exposed enough to do _nothing._

  
  


She tries to think positively about it. She _needs_ to finish everything and then go to bed early. School starts tomorrow and although she doesn’t have any early classes, her first starts at eleven. 

  
  


-

  
  


Hope wanders across the campus. The girl only has three classes today, but they’re each two hours long. 

  
  


_This is gonna suck._

  
  


Hope meets up with Maya and Sam before her first class and the trio are nervous as hell, the start of college seems like absolute misery. The familiarity of the school is now an old and useless reassurance. This is college. 

  
  


-

  
  


When Hope finally gets back to her dorm, at around seven o’clock, she’s beyond tired. Sitting in a classroom for one hour, she can do, but two hours? Dreadful. 

  
  


It was the first day and the professor already gave a lecture. 

  
  


Why does Hope even _have_ to take history? 

  
  


She already understands most of it—the United States _sucks_. There’s no other explanation and she had already learned all of it in highschool. She can fathom the whole core classes situation, but _that_ was just agonizing. 

  
  


Her other classes were fine, intriguing even. But now, all she wants to do is just lie on her bed and sleep. She doesn’t get to do either of those things. 

  
  


She opens the door and finds Josie and Penelope lip-locked—quite frantically—and the pair are also on _her_ desk. Well, at least Josie is. Penelope’s hips are just digging into her drawer, though. 

  
  


“Oh _god_ , my eyes!” Hope screams but can’t seem to stop watching. Her eyes are glued to the situation—perhaps the pair wanting her to suffer. As the image reaches her brain, it seems to burn in her mind, but as blinding white pain. 

  
  


It wasn’t of the physical kind either. 

  
  


She labels the feeling as disgust, just so she doesn’t have to call it _jealousy_. 

  
  


They pull apart, three seconds later, as if they didn’t hear Hope immediately; like they’re stuck in their own world. 

  
  


It tears Hope’s heart farther apart—ripping her arteries up, draining her ventricles of any happiness. 

  
  


“Shit, sorry…” Josie trails, panting. Penelope’s turned away, either out of embarrassment or something Hope will not even begin to guess about. 

  
  


“It’s f-fine. It’s fine! I just need to get some stuff,” Hope looks around the room, needing something to grab just so she can leave. 

  
  


All she wanted to do was sleep. 

  
  


She ends up taking her charger with her, a pillow, and some notebooks. It takes her all of six seconds to collect. 

  
  


She ends up going to the library, not really feeling up or able to talk to any of her friends at the moment. 

  
  


Hope gets in using her student ID card and moves to a section of the library where no one seems to be. 

  
  


She takes a seat, putting her pillow on top of the table. She falls asleep instantly. 

  
  


-

  
  


“Miss? Miss? The library is closing in two minutes.” 

  
  


Hope awakes to a woman slowly shaking her, talking lightly in her ear. 

  
  


Hope gradually opens her eyes, glancing around the room.

  
  


It’s empty. 

  
  


“What time is it?” Her voice is hoarse, sleepiness taking its toll. 

  
  


“It’s nearly ten, sweetie.” 

  
  


_That_ wakes the girl up immediately. She needs to get back to her dorm. 

She thanks the librarian and practically sprints to her dorm. Although she isn’t entirely eager to get back to her roommate—to Josie—she doesn’t like wandering out at night. Criminal Minds has taught her that being on campus in the nighttime is _definitely_ not a good place to be. 

  
  


She knocks this time, playing it safe. She can’t get hurt this time. 

  
  


Josie answers the door, right away, and glances wearily at Hope. 

  
  


“Did you forget your key?” The girl looks almost apologetic, a kind of anguish in her tone. 

  
  


“Just didn’t want a repeat of earlier.” 

  
  


Hope _really_ tried not to bring it up. She didn’t want to, at all. But the sentence came out of her mouth before she could even put a stop to it. 

  
  


“Oh.” 

  
  


Hope nods, not knowing why she’s still in the doorway. She slips past Josie, who looks like she wants to speak, but none of the such happens. 

  
  


She looks at her desk, which is now organized and smells like some type of all-purpose cleaner. 

  
  


Josie seems to know what the blue-eyed girl is looking at because she says, “Oh, yeah, I cleaned that. Sorry about...you know.” 

  
  


Hope cringes. She feels a pang touch her heart, but it isn’t there to comfort her. It serves as a reminder only. 

  
  


Hope nods, meeting Josie’s eyes. She then moves toward her bed, dropping her pillow and notebooks on it. 

  
  


She needs to take a shower. 

  
  


Knowing how thin the walls are, she brings her phone, making sure a playlist starts before she turns on the faucet. 

  
  


The water runs and she feels all the stiffness leave her body, replaced by tranquility. 

  
  


“I’m trying to sleep!” Hope hears a few moments later, but only increases the volume of her phone. Hope was _also_ just trying to sleep, so now she could care less. She’ll be as bitter as she wants to. 

  
  


She puts on her pajamas and leaves the bathroom, but is instantly met with an irritated Josie. 

  
  


“Why are our walls so thin?!” The brunette asks, rather upset, carrying two pillows on each side of her head, trying to muffle all the noise. 

  
  


“Well, now you know how _distracting_ things can be,” Hope insinuates to her own situation yesterday. She didn’t think that Josie would catch on, though. 

  
It takes Josie a minute, but realization comes soon enough.

“Wait...did you hear me...singing?” Josie winces, embarrassment splashing across her face much like paint would. 

  
  


“Trust me, I heard _everything_.” Hope puts her wet hair up in a towel, sitting on her bed. She gathers her notebooks and reviews her new syllabi. 

  
  


Josie’s face flushes but Hope knows that the taller girl can’t possibly know what she means. There’s a _lot_ of intention behind it, and Hope’s glad that she’s able to keep her face straight. 

  
  


“So you and Penelope, are you guys dating?” Hope tries to be nonchalant, but the look Josie throws her tells the auburn-headed girl that she’s being anything but. 

  
  


“Why are you asking?” Josie inquires. 

  
  


“Just so I can know whether or not I’ll be able to come home every night.” 

  
  


“You’re exaggerating,” the brown-eyed girl smiles but adds, “Plus...it isn’t that serious.” 

  
  


“No?” 

  
  


“No.” 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i made the book up to fit the story so no one look it up LOL

It’s Tuesday afternoon when Hope finds out, in a very abrupt manner, that Josie is in her economics class. As she walks through the door, she finds Josie sitting in the front row. She looks as though she’s arrived _very_ early.

  
  


_Kiss-ass._

  
  


Josie doesn’t seem to notice Hope entering so the auburn-haired girl makes her way to the back quietly. She decides to sit a few seats behind the girl but not for any particular reason. Really. 

  
  


It’s definitely not so she can stare at the brunette without being caught. Definitely not. 

  
  


Hope takes the time to look around, and she sees that the room is quite large. It’s probably one of the biggest lecture halls Hope has ever been in.

  
  


A few moments later, the professor walks in the room. Hope has the thought that he looks considerably young. As he prepares his setup, Hope looks back towards Josie. She discovers that the girl has been joined by Milton sitting down to her right, a skinny boy that Hope recognizes instantly. The pair appear to look busy laughing about one thing or another, something that Hope can’t quite be concerned for. 

  
  


She only regrets not being able to see Josie’s face in her fit of laughter, but she tries not to hold onto remorse for any longer. Yeah. She doesn’t regret not sitting next to her or in front of her at all. 

  
  


Hope decides that she likes it back here. She can’t be seen by anyone, and that’s a very good thing. Right?

  
  


The professor doesn’t care much for greetings or the acknowledgments of his students and starts to lecture right away. 

  
  


“Who has read _Decisions_ by Lowell Murphy?” The professor starts, expecting numerous hands. Only one hand goes up, however. 

  
  


When Hope finds that she’s the only one, her hand falls quickly, a bit embarrassed. She hopes that her professor hasn't seen her. 

  
  


All the prayer is for nothing as he acknowledges her, “Mikaelson?” 

  
  


The classroom goes silent at that, everyone now seeing the auburn-headed girl. Even Josie turns around, perhaps shocked that she didn’t see the girl. 

  
  


Why does her new professor know her name? Does he have pictures of every student or something?

She continues to feel slightly weirded-out by the fact that he knows her name, forgetting any memory of having a family company. The oddness of it all dissipates when Hope realizes that everyone’s probably heard of her. Who hasn’t? Her family has been in every business magazine and newspaper lately. She’s seen the headlines. 

  
  


_Car Accident Leaves Mikaelson Heiress All Alone—_

  
  


She shakes her head, trying to rid herself of _tha_ t line of thought. 

  
  


She still has Aunt Freya and her other relatives. Right? 

  
  


Hope nods, not really wanting to speak. 

  
  


He smiles, “How hard would you study for this course?” 

  
  


He’s almost yelling and his words bounce off the walls as they echo. 

  
  


It seems like a nonchalant question, like one teacher asking a student something simple. 

  
  


However, Hope recognizes the question immediately. It’s a part of the introduction of the book—something that known economists have analyzed. A decision. 

  
  


“Pretty hard,” Hope says and wishes that the professor will leave it at that. He doesn’t. 

  
  


“Why?” He asks, but knows the answer. Really, it’s a dumb question. 

  
  


“It’s important for my major. It’s an incentive.” She hopes that she doesn’t have to go on. Hope knows that he wants her to talk about the analysis of decision making and _all_ of that, but she doesn’t feel like explaining further. She’ll look like a teacher’s pet. Although Hope doesn’t need friends, she doesn’t need to be ridiculed whatsoever. 

  
  


“Incentive for what?” He eggs on and Hope looks at him blankly. 

  
  


“My career.” Hope wonders why he can’t go and bother any other student. She’s never, in the total of her two day college-life, seen a professor single someone out. 

  
  


At that, like she’s eased his true intentions, the professor backs off and looks away from Hope. He presses a button and a slide changes from the powerpoint. 

  
  


“Okay, so, economics is all about decisions. In decision-making, there are plenty of factors that lead to the end of a decision—that lead to the conclusion,” the young professor speaks and changes a slide. 

  
  


On the slide there are a few factors listed. 

  
  


“Opportunity,” He pauses but doesn’t explain further. 

  
  


“Incentives or motivation,” the professor throws a look at Hope, much like the rest of the class does in suit. 

  
  


Hope finds that Josie doesn’t look back once after the first time. Whatever. She can care less. 

  
  


“Compromises and then, last but not least, impulsivity,” He changes the slide again and continues to talk but the words start to blur in Hope’s own ears. She spaces out successively and hopes that he doesn’t call on her again or something worse. 

  
  


It’s two hours later when class is about to end. The professor says, “You’ll all be needing the book we talked about earlier. Make sure you have it in the next few weeks. Any further questions?” 

  
  


A student near Hope raises his hand and asks, “Where can we find it?” 

  
  


Hope all but rolls her eyes. Seriously? Pathetic. 

  
  


“I don’t know,” the professor deadpans and starts towards the door. He throws his hand behind him, in some sort of wave, and calls back, “Class is dismissed.” 

  
  


He’s the first to leave. 

  
  


The class files out as all the students are in a hurry for some reason Hope doesn’t understand. Rushing just takes them longer to get out of the classroom, anyways. It’s not like it quickens the process. They all just end up piling on top of each other. 

  
  


She’s still sitting in her seat, distractedly scrolling through her phone. 

  
  


Hope finally gets up when she realizes there’s only a couple of people left in the class, not enough to crowd the room or block the door. She absentmindedly notices when Josie leaves, as she’s two people behind her. She hears Josie tell Milton, “Wait, I think I forgot something.” 

  
  


However, Hope doesn’t really acknowledge it until the girl is in front of her. Now she can stick the words to a face. 

  
  


Suddenly, Hope’s met with all too familiar pouty lips and never-ending brown pools of eyes.

  
  


Josie closes the door behind her and Hope thinks that the girl is about to trap her in the classroom and actually kill her.

  
  


Of course Hope had to be the last one out. 

  
  


She backs up and all the progress that was made last night flies away with her.

  
  


“Just letting you know, you should stay at Maya’s tonight,” Josie says, innuendo thick as she places an emphasis on all her words. 

  
  


Hope wants to yell at the girl. She wants to say that it’s her room, too. That Josie can’t keep doing this. That it’s the second night in a row and it’s only been the second day of school. That she needs sleep. 

  
  


But now all that is expected of Hope is to be cool with it. 

  
  


So she does just that. 

  
  


“Oh,” Hope drags on. A moment of silence appears before she offers, “Uh...be safe?”

  
  


It’s the stupidest thing to come out of her mouth but she says it anyway. 

  
  


This new kindness thing is really not Hope’s style. 

  
  


Josie laughs almost nervously and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, turning around and walking out the door with a simple, “Thanks.”

  
  


The door closes but Hope still sees the girl through the glass window. As the girl gets farther, Hope knows she should’ve just said no. She’s acting too nice and feels like she’s just been subject to her feelings the past few days. She needs to snap out of it. 

  
  


Hope walks to Maya’s dorm and opens the door when she notices it isn’t unlocked. 

  
  


She finds the girl on her bed, wearing earphones. Maya hasn’t even noticed the presence of her best friend. Hope shakes her slightly, not trying to scare her but Maya still screams. 

  
  


“Why is your door open? What if I was a serial killer?” Hope scolds Maya, much like a parent does to a child. Maya frowns, shaking her head.

  
  


The two start laughing before Maya wonders why Hope is even there in the first place, “Wait, what are you doing here?” 

  
  


“Josie basically kicked me out,” Hope shrugs. 

  
  


“You guys got in _another_ fight?” 

  
  


“No, no! She _suggested_ that I shouldn’t be in the dorm tonight.” Anger fills within the girl at the remembrance of the conversation. 

  
  


“Why?” 

  
  


“Hmm, where’s your roommate?”

  
  


“She said she had to leave because she was spending the night with... _oh_ ,” Maya realizes and a devilish kind of smile etches itself across her face. 

  
  


Hope takes out her school materials, laying them across Maya’s bed. She has a lot to do and she’s kind of upset that she can’t even do them in comfort of her own bed and desk. 

  
  


“You know, Penelope is totally in love with Josie,” Maya says, a few minutes after Hope had started her first assignment. 

  
  


It gets Hope’s attention right away.

  
  


“How do you know?” Hope’s voice rings soft and seems absorbed with the implication. 

  
  


“She talks about her like all the time and Penelope and I aren’t even that close of friends,” Maya is deep in thought and Hope’s eyebrows raise at the insinuation. 

  
  


It’s weird. It’s actually very weird because of what Josie had said to her last night. 

  
  


“Hmm… Josie told me that things weren’t serious between them,” Hope recalls, feeling confused now. 

  
  


“You think it’s one-sided?”

  
  


“No, I mean, that wouldn’t make sense cause they’re literally having sex right now,” the auburn-headed girl states plainly. Screw innuendos. Hope isn’t allowed in her room because they’re probably fucking on Josie’s bed. Ew. 

  
  


“Well, maybe it’s just not serious on Josie’s side. You know?” Maya speaks, knowing some people just like to screw around and have fun. 

  
  


“Yeah,” Hope agrees, as it’s the easiest answer to swallow. She adds, “Can I borrow some clothes? I need to take a shower.”

  
  


“Sure, the third drawer has all of my pajamas and stuff,” Maya says absentmindedly, also trying to focus on her schoolwork. 

  
  


Hope gets up, takes some clothes from the dresser, and heads towards the bathroom. She closes the door and sees some similarity between Maya and her own room. However, the girl _was_ right. Hope’s dorm room is definitely bigger than Maya’s. 

  
  


-

  
  


It’s about ten at night when Hope and Maya hear a door clicking. In walks Penelope Park, whose hair is disheveled and her outfit completely shifted off of her body. Hope thinks Penelope looks like she just got hit by a bus, but she is still able to stand somehow. 

  
  


The thought punishes her and Hope wishes she can somehow toss her brain out of her skull and step on it repeatedly. 

  
  


Today is _not_ Hope’s day. 

  
  


Hope is in Maya’s bed, laying down right next to the girl. There was no way in hell she was going to sleep in Penelope’s bed. 

  
  


The presence of the girl is a slight surprise as Hope had thought the girl would surely be staying the night, at least that was what Josie had implied. 

  
  


“Oh, hey guys!” Penelope is overly enthusiastic and Hope hates it. She hates that the girl can just come home in her own dorm while Hope is reliant on Josie’s schedule. She hates that Josie can boss her around and Hope doesn’t even feel like doing anything about it. She hates that she’s developing some sort of altruism for the girl, completely allowing Josie to walk all over her. 

  
  


Hope isn’t a kind person. She’s the _one_ to step over people, to have a disregard for their feelings. She isn’t lenient. So why is she tolerating _this_?

  
  


Hope hates it all. 

  
  


Maya responds for the two of them, “Hey! Have fun?” 

  
  


Maya is her invasive self and Hope tries to block her ears from Penelope’s response before she’ll have to remove them, too. 

  
  


“I’ll tell you later...Oh, Hope, if you want to you can go back to your room now.” 

  
  


“Wow. So kind,” Hope bites back and feels a slap come across her back the second she responds. 

  
  


She turns around and is met with a death stare from her friend. She ignores Maya and wiggles herself out of the bed sheets. 

  
  


Hope grabs her stuff quickly and doesn’t even say goodbye to either of them.

  
  


She makes the short walk back to her own dorm and slides her key in the door. 

  
  


Hope walks in and finds Josie sitting on her bed with a notebook in her lap. Josie offers a greeting, but Hope completely ignores the girl. She heads to her bed, feeling quite exhausted. The room is a mess, but none of the disorder comes from Hope’s side of the room. 

  
  


Josie has just taken a shower, evident by her wet hair and clothes. 

  
  


Hope takes a deep breath, falling onto her bed, her face landing on her pillow. The blue-eyed girl hears Josie scoff, perhaps at how Hope had disregarded her. Josie is huffing and puffing a little too loud and the only reason Hope cares enough for it is because she can’t go to sleep now. 

  
  


She closes her eyes, hoping Josie will stop, but she doesn’t. 

  
  


Hope feels like the brunette is doing it on purpose. 

  
  


After a short amount of time passes, Josie’s behavior ceases. 

  
  


Hope shifts in her bed and closes her eyes again, now that the room is silent. 

  
  


Josie’s irritation picks back up again, but this time in the form of words, “What’s your problem?” 

  
  


Hope rolls her eyes. Now she knows she isn’t going to sleep anytime soon. 

  
  


“I don’t have a problem,” Hope snaps through gritted teeth. She wants to remain impassive and silent, but ultimately finds herself in the same situation. Again and again. 

  
  


“You obviously do, you’re acting like an ass,” Josie says spitefully and throws her notebook on her bed, unable to write anymore. Hope thinks she’s being dramatic.

  
  


“I’m not acting like _anything_.” 

  
  


“Is it about Penelope? Cause I think it has something to do with her.” 

  
  


Hope decides not to answer, knowing her true feelings will surface if she’s probed any further on the subject. She’ll look upset or even worse: jealous. 

  
  


So, Hope chooses not to react. Hope just moves away from the girl, turning silent once again. She’s facing her wall and when she doesn’t hear anything come from Josie’s side again, she concludes that it’s good news. _How_ mistaken Hope is. 

  
  


In an instant, her sheets are pulled off of her and she’s left with just a pillow.

  
  


Hope’s instantly cold and she yelps, “Are you fucking crazy?!” 

  
  


Josie is standing over her, holding Hope’s bed sheets captive, and says, “What. Is. Your. Problem?” She pauses after every word and Hope thinks she looks very childish. Very childish indeed. 

  
  


“What is _your_ problem?” Hope spins back on her, adding, “I just want to sleep.” She gets up to grab her blankets but Josie backs away at every step Hope takes. 

  
  


“I asked how your night was and you ignored me,” Josie’s pout deepens and Hope’s absolutely not thinking about how cute it is. Josie crosses her arms and Hope subconsciously mirrors the girl’s actions. 

  
  


“Oh you wanna know how my night was? Well, it would’ve been a lot better had I not been kicked out of my _own_ room for a booty call!” Hope explodes after holding onto her thoughts the whole evening. 

  
  


“You didn’t say anything when I told you about it. I thought you were okay with it,” Josie tries to justify herself but physically deflates upon realizing she must’ve royally screwed up. 

  
  


“I am.” 

  
  


Hope’s mouth can now only mutter a few words at a time, her ability to stop from yelling now hanging by just a thread.

  
  


“Then why are you acting like this. Why’d you ignore me when you first came in?” Josie questions, completely oblivious to any consequences of leaving Hope to dry. 

  
  


“I didn’t hear you,” Hope grunts out, quickly finding an excuse to justify her previous behavior. 

  
  


“My ass you didn’t hear me, you looked me right in the eye.”

  
  


“I had my earbuds in,” she explains, but Hope’s defense is falling apart with every word the girl pronounces. Hope is really just trying to cover her ass now. 

  
  


“Those earbuds?” Josie points to a pair of headphones on the nightstand, “They were already there before you came in.” 

  
  


“Wow, how observant,” Hope remarks and thinks that if she wasn’t dead before, she’s definitely dead now. She basically has just handed Josie the knife to stab her. She really needs to stop before the brown-eyed girl punches her. 

  
  


“Answer the question.” 

  
  


“What are you doing with Penelope?” Hope deflects.

  
  


“I told you,” Josie states, feeling some anxiety erupt across her cheeks at the accusation. 

  
  


“Well you lied,” Hope is now impatient and the conversation she had with Maya earlier is almost _too_ clear in her mind.

  
  


“What are you talking about?” Josie’s voice cracks in the middle, her eyes watering enough that Hope has to do a double-take. Hope wonders why she’s being so emotional, but has seen this side of Josie numerous times before. Hope concludes that it’s just a part of her personality.

  
  


And the girl can’t seriously be upset, anyways. 

  
  


“What are you crying for?” 

  
  


The girl chokes on a sob and screams, “I don’t know!” 

  
  


Hope starts to laugh at the image in front of her, “Well, stop it!” 

  
  


“I can’t!” Josie yells back and now they’re in a shouting match. Hope grows uncomfortable, not finding the situation funny anymore. 

  
  


Hope finds a tissue box and hands it to the girl, who takes it rather pathetically. 

  
  


“Can I go to sleep now?” Hope says somewhat inconsiderably, just wanting to fall into her bed and rest. 

  
  


Josie wipes away a tear, “I hate you.” 

  
  


“What? Do you want a hug or something?” The blue-eyed girl asks and Hope wishes that Josie doesn’t take it seriously. 

  
  


“I would rather die,” the brunette deadpans. 

  
  


“Agreed,” Hope mutters offhandedly. She rubs at her eyes and picks up her bed sheets from where Josie had left them on the floor. She places them on her bed and stands guard at the bed frame just so Josie can’t do it again. 

  
  


She thinks the conversation is over, but Josie speaks up when a minute passes.

  
  


“So kiss-ass much?” Josie taunts the girl and seems proud of herself, like it’s the best she could come up with in the moment. 

  
  


“Hmm?” Hope asks, not knowing where she’s coming from. If anything, Josie is the kiss-ass. 

  
  


“During the lecture today,” Josie clears up. 

  
  


“He basically forced me to talk,” Hope complains, trying to get the point across that she wasn’t—at all—trying to talk. 

  
  


“What was that even about?”

  
  


“I don’t know, I thought it was weird too.” Hope is glad that someone else picked up on it. 

  
  


“It’s like he knew you,” Josie emphasizes, also confused. 

  
  


“I’ve never seen him in my life.” Hope tries to think about every face she’s ever known, but comes up blank. Perhaps he knows a friend or family member of hers? 

  
  


Josie changes the subject, “What’s the book about, anyways?” 

  
  


“It’s just about decisions. Like whether to buy a pizza for dinner or which college to go to,” Hope explains, but this time it isn’t painful or humiliating to talk like how it was in class earlier. 

  
  


Hope doesn’t know how their conversation evolved into this. How they change from hot to cold in a second or how their screaming turns to talking. 

  
  


Josie looks deep in thought, like she’s debating asking more questions or not. 

  
  


When she doesn’t, Hope begins, “You can have my copy if you want…”

  
  


“No, you’ll need it later.” 

  
  


“I mean, I basically have it memorized…” Hope’s kindness prospers despite the rejection. 

  
  


“Still,” Josie drags on and throws Hope a pointed look. 

  
  


Josie smiles and it’s different than any smile Hope has ever seen come from the girl before. It’s contagious and looks like the sun—breaking up the monotony of the darkness, freeing the clouds. Hope feels like the smile means something more, but she remembers Penelope. 

  
  


There _can’t_ be more. The smile doesn’t mean anything more. 

  
  


Hope plays with her hands, trying to distract herself from the flutter of her heart. 

  
  


She gathers the backbone to look up, “I’m gonna go to sleep now. If that’s okay with you…”

  
  


It’s a joke, signified by the smirk on Hope’s face, and Josie takes it eagerly, “For sure.” 

  
  


Hope positions herself underneath her covers until she’s comfortable. She turns towards the wall, much like she had done before. Hope hears footsteps and then the light turns off. Hope hears shuffling from the other side of the room and realizes it’s probably just Josie organizing her things for school or something. 

  
  


She hears a lamp turn on and there’s a shadow on the wall. Josie probably still has homework to do, although it probably isn’t due the next day. She finds that it’s considerate of Josie to turn off the lights, but doesn’t allow herself to think much more of it. Her mind is too preoccupied with other thoughts. 

  
  


But they are all encompassed around the same subject nonetheless: Josie Saltzman. 


	10. Chapter 10

Hope wakes up early, having a class that starts at nine in the morning. She bounces out of bed but tries to make the least amount of noise possible. Josie is still asleep and she doesn’t feel like waking up the girl. Hope knows what it’s like to be woken up early. It feels like misery wrapped up in a bow, presenting itself across the forehead of its victims. In simpler terms, it’s a headache. And it sucks. 

  
  
  


She changes quickly, throwing on a pair of shorts and a hoodie. She tidies up the bathroom, not trying to leave a mess behind. Hope has always been an organized person; it’s just not in her to leave things looking like utter shit.

  
  


Hope makes her way out, silently closing the door. She glances towards Josie’s bed, looking for some kind of sign that the girl’s awake. When she doesn’t find it, she closes the door completely. 

  
  


It’s bright outside and Hope has to adjust to the sun for a moment. Hope starts to make the walk towards her art class. The room is much smaller than any of the classes Hope has ever been to. In her life. 

  
  


She walks in, sitting in the nearest desk that isn’t occupied. Hope looks around, spotting a familiar bird-nested boy behind her. Landon tilts his head, somehow shocked that he could possibly miss the girl from when she first arrived. 

  
  


“Oh, hey, Hope!” The boy is eager and it’s _way_ too early in the morning for Hope. His smile shines bright, much reminding Hope of the sun this morning. She involuntarily frowns but catches herself before the frown could stay for any longer. 

  
  


“Oh...Hi Landon,” Hope states cooly, perhaps trying to burn out the brightness. It only seems to make him smile harder so she carries on, “I didn’t know you liked art.”

  
  


“Well, I’m not any good, but I wanted to learn more about art styles,” the boy explains himself and Hope remembers that they aren’t really going to be painting in this class. 

  
  


When she first chose the elective, she was told that it was only focused upon learning and understanding the different genres: landscape, portraits, history, etc. 

  
  


The girl hopes that changes, though. Hope hasn’t painted since the car accident. There’s been no free time nor will and it’s too much of a before and after phenomenon. Before she used to paint, after she didn’t. Before she was able, now she feels inadequate. 

  
  


It feels like a sickness—a horrible type of grief, a forever never-ending type of grief. 

  
  


“Did you read?” The blue-eyed girl asks, only interested enough to be able to pull herself out of the hole she keeps pushing herself in. Her thoughts constantly remind her of what she’s lost; they mess with her like bullies who just can’t seem to stop.

  
  


“The book? Yeah.” 

  
  


“What’s your favorite type of painting?” Hope asks, longing to be able to keep up a conversation with someone other than her friends. 

  
  


“Probably landscape paintings. I love looking at different views, you know?” Hope nods and he continues to talk, “I don’t know, there’s just something comforting about it. What about you?” 

  
  


“Uh…” She acts like she’s thinking about it, but really, one comes to mind real quick, “I like genre paintings.” 

  
  


“Why?” He wonders when the girl doesn’t continue. 

  
  


“I guess scenes are interesting. It’s like taking a memory and painting it.” 

  
  


“Oh, I see. But what do you do when you can’t remember fully?” The boy leans in slightly, engrossed with how Hope’s talking so much. 

  
  


“What do you mean?”

  
  


“Well, with memories, don't you forget some pieces of information? Like the colors and stuff?” It causes Hope to pause, cause she’s never really thought about that before. 

  
  


“I guess I just fill in what I can’t remember. Uh...it’s like when you’re telling a story, and you can’t quite remember what happened so you make stuff up to make it more interesting.” 

  
  


Hope stops talking when she acknowledges that she probably looks geeky as hell. She retracts her statement, trying to take the focus away from her, “I mean, some painters just like to create scenes. They just use imagination.” 

  
  


“But I think those people are bound to add things that they’re likened to. Like maybe it’s even unconscious. It just fits,” Landon responds, and the words carry to Hope’s ears effortlessly. She holds onto every word he says, but not because it’s _him_. 

  
  


It’s what he’s saying. 

  
  


_It just fits._

  
  


Hope finds herself thinking about a brunette and she grits her teeth, hardening her jaw. 

  
  


It makes Hope agitated because they weren’t even talking about her. 

  
  


“Oh, look, the professor!” Hope calls out, in some sort of distraction to erase her thoughts and stop Landon from being so relatable. 

  
  


Landon whiffs his head around, just as their new professor walks through the door. Hope turns around before Landon can say anything and she concentrates her attention to the front of the room. 

  
  


“Hi, everyone. I apologize for being a bit late, but I had other matters to tend to,” the professor speaks. She’s terribly old and her language is indicative of it. Hope squints her eyebrows, examining the woman. 

  
  


_A bit late?_

  
  


She’s around twenty minutes late. By policy, Hope and the rest of the students could’ve walked out already. However, there’s a coolness about the woman. The room feels a little bit more homey, and the feeling is refreshing. 

  
  


A strange occurrence appears within Hope. It’s like the feeling one gets when they just _know_ someone’s about to change their life forever. It’s like a middle school teacher, whose lessons one can’t forget decades later. Or a friend, whose handshake feels like forever and it’s _just_ because the mind is processing the memory to hold on to for eternity. 

  
  


A bout of silence occurs before the instructor resumes talking, “Anyways, I have finished reading all the essays you submitted.” 

  
  


Hope still can’t believe that the woman had made them write two essays before school even started. 

  
  


“I have concluded that they are all, excuse me for the simple-minded term, trash.”

  
  


The room explodes in a second and students are talking all over each other. It’s the most chaotic thing Hope has witnessed in her life and there’s laughter bubbling up her throat, waiting to pop. Do people really care that much?

  
  


“Oh, please. You guys really thought this was grade-A material? I’m being kind here. The Yale professors would have laughed in your faces. Quite the time they would’ve had with these,” the woman directs, especially to the kids in the front who are being fairly bold. 

  
  


Hope notices the old lady has an accent, and it slightly reminds her of Margaret Thatcher. 

  
  


“I’ve decided to assign something completely different. I find that some of you have potential...and others, well, let’s not even go there,” she’s walking around the room and a high level of authority, seemingly, bounces off the floors in response to her movement. 

  
  


“Paint something. Due next month, about the genre you wrote about. And please be more creative than doing self-portraits. Pitiful things they are,” the woman says. 

  
  


_Biased much?_

  
  


However, the assignment creates a sort of excitement in Hope. It was what she wanted, and Hope wonders if her new teacher can read minds.

  
  


“Today we will be reviewing the book, so even if you didn’t read you would know what to do or paint,” she clarifies her lesson plan. “Any questions?” 

  
  


A hand goes up in the front. “Ma’am, what if we aren’t any good at painting?”

  
  


“Try your best. I know some of your art abilities fall short, but just try. You can find anything you would need in this classroom. I am not expecting a Picasso or a Dalí. I understand what I am asking for is a bit unreasonable, but do what you can.” 

  
  


The classroom falls silent and some shoulders sag with relief. Hope takes her book out of her bag, feeling a new type of animated. 

  
  


-

  
  


The class ends rather early and Hope gets out of the room before anyone—Landon—can talk to her. 

  
  


The auburn-haired girl paves the way back to her dorm room, already thinking of ideas for her painting. 

  
  


Hope freezes at the door, hearing quite the commotion coming from inside. There’s definitely more than one person inside and Hope wishes that Penelope isn’t there _again_. 

  
  


She only hears talking, so she thinks it’s safe to turn the knob open. When she pushes the door, she spots Josie immediately as well as an all too recognizable blonde relative. 

  
  


“Aunt Freya?” 

  
  


A contrariety of emotion fills up within Hope. 

  
  


She runs across the room, not having seen Freya in a few weeks. They embrace in a hug and Hope feels almost every ounce of emptiness escape her body. The boulder upon her shoulder loosens, unable to remain stable on overjoyed ground. 

  
  


“Hi, honey!” Freya pulls away, wanting to see the face of her niece. She concludes that Hope’s face looks brighter and more promising than three months ago. She’s glad.

  
  


“When did you get here?” Hope asks, small-talk making its way through the conversation. 

  
  


“Early this morning, I thought I’d stop by.” A wide smile slides across the woman’s face. 

  
  


“You should’ve let me know. I would’ve come back quicker...I had a morning class,” Hope explains her absence in the early morning.

  
  


“Oh, it’s fine. I’ve been talking to Josie!” 

  
  


At that, Hope finally turns to meet the girl, whose presence she kind of forgot about. Josie has been awkwardly standing next to them the whole time. 

  
  


Josie throws Hope a quick but calm, “Hey.” 

  
  


Hope thinks it’s the first time Josie has kindly acknowledged her. She smiles back, her lips ripping upwards tightly. She’s nervous, because what had they been talking about before she came in?

  
  


“Anyways, did you want to go get breakfast? I thought I’d take you out, Hope,” her aunt says, and Hope thinks the idea sounds wonderful. 

  
  


“Sure,” Hope agrees.

  
  


“Josie did you want to come with us?” The blonde invites Josie, and Hope becomes frantic. 

  
  


“Uh, Josie can’t. She has a class to get to,” Hope speaks for the girl and doesn’t miss the confused look Josie throws her. 

  
  


Josie pauses and a smirk falls across her face.

  
  


“Actually, I’m free today—”

  
  


Josie is cut off when Hope drags her off to the side, taking advantage when her aunt becomes distracted with her phone. 

  
  


“No you aren’t you little—” The blue-eyed girl is interrupted before she can continue, though. 

  
  


“Great! Hope, want to invite any of your other friends?” 

  
  


“They all have classes,” she pouts, wanting to slam her head against a wall until she’s developed a concussion or something. 

  
  


Even her best friend Maya can’t help her out of this situation. 

  
  


“Okay, I need to use the bathroom but then we'll get going,” Aunt Freya states and makes her way into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. 

  
  


Right away, the smile falls off of Hope’s face and she turns around, “What are you doing?” 

  
  


“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Josie utters and her voice is anything but innocent. It raises an alarm in Hope’s head, much like a highway sign lighting up the dark road. 

  
  


“You really don’t have a class?” 

  
  


“I do, but it isn’t till much later,” Josie points out and Hope starts to think of a plan to make her late to her next lecture.

  
  


_If she wanted to come so bad…_

  
  


“You know this is weird, right?” Hope asks, wishing the girl would just take a hint. 

  
  


Why is Josie coming? Normal people usually run away from these kinds of things—especially with relatives. The brunette is planning something, she knows it.

  
  


“I just wanna get to know my roommate,” she says dismissively, shrugging with a hint of obliviousness. 

  
  


Hope scowls, “Oh, cut the bullshit. What are you planning?” 

  
  


Josie says nothing, rummaging through her purse. 

  
  


Hope’s aunt comes out of the bathroom a moment later, stopping Hope of obtaining another chance to accuse the girl.

  
  


“Okay, ready girls?” Aunt Freya questions, looking more energized than she was minutes ago. 

  
  


“Yes!” Josie calls out, following after her in the doorway. 

  
  


Hope rolls her eyes and is the last one out the door. 

  
  


-

  
  


The trio arrive at the restauraunt and they move into a booth. Hope sits down and Josie makes the decision to sit across from her. Aunt Freya chooses to sit next to Josie instead of her niece.

  
  


_Great. Two versus one._

  
  


“Hope, so, what class did you have this morning?” Freya asks the girl, trying to spark a conversation before they order.

  
  


Hope’s mouth runs dry. Her family can’t know she’s not soley focusing on her major. 

  
  


“Uh...economics,” Hope draws out, completely forgetting that she shares the class with Josie. 

  
  


Josie’s posture changes and a look of puzzlement is evident on her face. Hope glances at Josie, hoping she’ll just keep quiet. 

  
  


“We had class this morning?” Josie can’t seem to get the hint and Hope’s face falls. However, the brunette looks actually confused so Hope can’t really get mad at her. 

  
  


She quickly talks over the girl, “So, how was your flight in?” 

  
  


Aunt Freya looks between the girls, wondering what the hell is going on, but ignores it.

  
  


“Horrible, you would not believe. I was in the middle seat and there were these two men. I’m gonna throw up just thinking about it,” she says and looks close to gagging.

  
  


“What happened?” Josie asks, absolutely intrigued. 

  
  


“They just kept farting. I swear, one after the other. I hate Americans,” Freya recalls, as if she could still remember the smell.

  
  


“Aunt Freya!” Hope admonishes her, because, well, they _are_ in public. And literally anyone could act crazily nowadays if they hear something they don’t like. 

  
  


A minute later, their waiter arrives and when he asks Hope what she wants, all of a sudden Josie is ordering for her, “Oh, Hope, they have those maple sausages you love!”

  
  


Damn, there goes her french toast. Maple syrup and sausages? Yuck.

  
  


“Great!” Hope grits her teeth and the fake enthusiasm dies off of her tongue in a second. 

  
  


Josie hums, like she’s delighted, and the server runs off with their order. 

  
  


Josie scoots out of the booth, having to use the bathroom. Finally able to get alone time with her aunt, Hope takes it.

  
  


“Aunt Freya, why are you being so nice to her?” The blue-eyed girl questions, because doesn’t she know? About Josie?

  
  


“What do you mean? I thought you guys were friends?” 

  
  


Hope looks around the room, and then whispers like it’s a secret, “She’s a Saltzman…” 

  
  


“You’re just as bad as your father, aren’t you?” Aunt Freya smiles, knowing her brother must have infected Hope with this nonsense.

  
  


“What?” 

  
  


“Klaus and Alaric were always been rivals. It’s business, Hope. It doesn’t mean you go hating his daughters,” Freya scolds her, but there’s still a lightness to the conversation. Hope can tell that she is not seriously upset. 

  
  


“It’s probably what he wanted, though. He told me Alaric was bad news,” Hope says, recalling the very conversation. She had just turned fifteen and her father had dragged her into his room. They had talked all night. But he never mentioned how Alaric had twin daughters the same age as her. 

  
  


“Everyone was bad news to him, honey. But what does that have to do with his daughters?” 

  
  


“I guess nothing...but why didn’t I ever know about Josie or Lizzie? Why not until now?” 

  
  


“What’s so important about that?” Her aunt asks, not understanding where Hope’s anger is coming from.

  
  


“It’s just...my dad never told me about them. That’s weird, right?” 

  
  


“Hope, we should talk another time. Not while Josie is here,” Freya speaks, and Hope has the idea that there’s more to everything than what she’s telling her.

  
  


Hope examines her aunt, “Did you know about Alaric’s daughters? Did you know that we’d be going to the same school? That I would have to see Alaric?” 

  
  


Freya doesn’t waver despite the bite to her tone, despite the bombardment of questions. Nevermind that Hope is treating her like a criminal suspect in an investigation. 

  
  


“Of course not, Hope. I don’t think your dad ever even knew that Alaric had daughters. This was between him and Alaric...”

  
  


“Then why’d he involve me in it?” Hope is hurt and what her aunt is telling her isn’t helping. 

  
  


“It’s just...he really hurt your dad. But that’s a story for another time.” 

  
  


“She’s coming,” Hope murmurs under her breath and instantly quiets, eyeing Josie at the other side of the room. 

  
  


“What’d I miss?” Josie says, and Freya moves to let Josie back in her spot at the end of the booth. 

  
  


_A shit ton._

  
  


“Nothing!” Hope states, an all too hurried expression on her face. 

  
  


The food arrives and Hope groans, looking at the disgusting mess of her plate. Hope feels Josie watching her and she holds back a gag.

  
  


“Aren’t you gonna eat, Hope?”

  
  


Hope ignores it.

  
  


“Does anyone want some?” The blue-eyed girl asks, hoping Josie or her aunt could take something off of her plate.

  
  


“No, thank you,” Josie emphasizes, gesturing to her own plate of french toast. Hope hates the smug smile Josie wears and she hates how oblivious her aunt is to it all. It’s like her aunt is deciding not to pay any attention to it. For a second, Hope thinks that Freya forgot their conversation.

  
  


Hope _really_ doesn’t want to eat any of this. She wants to have a chocolate croissant or she can even settle with a fruit platter. 

  
  


Desperate times call for desperate measures. Or whatever the hell that saying is. 

  
  


Hope takes her apple juice glass, looking at it once or twice as if the cup is able to tell her not to do it. She just can’t help it, though. 

  
  


Hope makes sure she doesn’t get her aunt. She spills the glass across the tabletop and the apple juice flows over her own meal, Josie’s meal, and the brunette’s clothes.

  
  


Ruining her outfit _and_ her meal. 

  
The best part? Josie doesn’t even see it coming. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating for a while, i was focusing on my ap tests. i have another one tmrw, but then after i'll be able to focus more on the story

“Oh my god!” Josie yelps and immediately sits up. The movement, however, worsens her situation as the juice continues to spill down her legs, even treading to her shoes. 

  
  


“Hope!” Aunt Freya admonishes the girl, but Hope knows that her aunt can’t really prove that she did it on purpose. Either way, Hope has always been known to be clumsy. 

  
  


“What are you blaming me for?” 

  
  


“It was your juice!” Her aunt accuses her, not really caring about causing a scene. She won’t ever let her niece get away with being rude. 

  
  


“I didn’t do it on purpose…” she spits out, but can’t find the ability to talk further back to her aunt. Hope is not entirely sure that Aunt Freya won’t try spanking her for her sudden lack of manners. 

  
  


Although Aunt Freya is one of her favorite relatives, Hope just knows her aunt wouldn’t ever miss an opportunity to put Hope in her place.

  
  


“Sure you didn’t,” Josie mumbles, finally butting into the conversation. 

  
  


The girl is still dabbing napkins all over herself, but they don’t seem to help at all. At least she isn’t wearing white. 

  
  


The waiter soon comes over and passes a small towel over to Josie, carrying a cheesy smile. It’s a flirty one, and Josie seems to eat it whole.

  
  


“Thank you! You’re so sweet!” The brunette says as she takes the towel, touching his hand for what seems like forever. 

  
  


Hope has seen this over-enthusiastic side of Josie so many times by now, so she knows Josie is only trying to spite her.

  
  


It does cause Hope to stop though. 

  
  


She can never truly tell when Josie is being authentic—she can never tell where her true feelings lie. 

  
  


It seems as though she flirts with everybody, that Penelope is just a string-along, someone fun. Is this a facade? Is this how Josie has fun? 

  
  


Everything makes the blue-eyed girl so confused. When is Josie herself? Is this _really_ Josie? 

  
  


Hope thinks that the girl puts up some kind of face, showing so many aspects to so many people.

  
  


The thought makes Hope burn. Hope starts to think that she doesn’t even hold any significance to the brown-eyed girl. Is this all a game to Josie? 

  
  


It seems as though this back and forth is what Josie wants, and it aches Hope to think about why.

  
  


“You’re welcome,” the guy responds and he looks like he’s about to swoon right in front of their very eyes. 

  
  


Hope breathes in and slightly coughs, trying to rid herself of the waiter. He slowly gets the hint and moves away, throwing one last smile in Josie’s direction. 

  
  


“I’m sorry about that, Josie,” Aunt Freya apologizes for Hope and it makes Hope even more upset. 

  
  


“It’s fine,” the girl says and has the nerve to act innocent. Hope realizes the girl is trying to garner some kind of guilt into Hope.

  
  


It isn’t working.

  
  


Hope sits with a pout on her face, eyeing Josie. 

  
  


“What are you wearing under that hoodie?” Freya directs to her niece, trying to solve the mess of the situation. She might also have an ulterior motive. 

  
  


“A shirt…” Hope trails, not quite understanding the blonde. 

  
  


She gets it a second later and tries to withdraw her response, “No, wait, I’m wearing nothing underneath this.”

  
  


“I can literally see your shirt from here, Hope.”

  
  


“Then why’d you ask?” 

  
  


“I was hoping you’d be nice enough to offer,” Aunt Freya’s words come out like venom and there’s a severity within them. She says the words with an aching sort of disappointment, like she can’t believe what Hope has become. 

  
  


What the niece she’s watched grow over the years has become. 

  
  


Something runs throughout Hope’s body, something akin to regret. It tears through her senses, forcing her to take off her hoodie. 

  
  


She hands it over to Josie, who is looking very hard at the ceiling, much trying to persuade the walls to help her disappear from the restaurant. 

  
  


“It’s okay. I’ll just change when I get home,” Josie pushes Hope’s sweatshirt away, somehow even hurting Hope’s feelings.

  
  


“What time is your class again?” Hope utters, thinking if the brunette actually has the time to do that. 

  
  


Josie checks her phone, and when she sees the time, her eyes go wide and a look of panic builds up visibly on her face. 

  
  


Josie reaches over and takes Hope’s hoodie, quite quickly, and jumps over the booth. She doesn’t bother to tell Aunt Freya to move, just standing up on the seat and jumping over her. 

  
  


Hope thought about making Josie late to her class, but she isn’t actually going to go through with it. 

  
  


Josie heads towards the back of the restaurant, most likely going to the restroom again. She’s out in a mere thirty seconds and heads back to the table.

  
  


She’s wearing Hope’s hoodie, which drowns her in an adorable way. Hope is in a daze, but it’s interrupted when Josie starts to make her way to her, noticeably rushing. 

  
  


Hope also notices how Josie still has her shorts on, and her legs are glazed like she’s just cleaned away all the juice on them with water and paper towels from the bathroom dispenser. 

  
  


Her dirty shirt is in her hands and Josie throws it at Hope, but focuses her attention on Hope’s aunt. 

  
  


“Thank you so much for inviting me. I had a great time, but I have to get going. I’ll see you later!” Josie flushes, her neck and cheeks red from running around. Aunt Freya nods with a smile and responds, but Hope doesn’t seem to catch it.

  
  


Josie turns her attention towards Hope, who still seems rather unfocused, and draws out, “Uh...yeah.” 

  
  


Hope can’t bother to be offended by it though. 

  
  


Josie leaves a ten-dollar bill on the table—her part and more—and steps away before either of the two can complain about it. 

  
  


Josie leaves and jumps into her car. Hope watches everything from the window—how the brunette starts to run when she reaches the parking lot, how she keeps trying to pry open her door because she forgot to unlock it with the keys in her hand, how she jumps in her car and takes a deep breath before starting the ignition. 

  
  


Hope sees it all. It fascinates her and she can’t seem to look away, even though Josie is already long gone. 

  
  


Aunt Freya clears her throat loudly, waving her hand in front of Hope’s face with an amused look. 

  
  


“Supposed to hate her, huh?” Her aunt mumbles, but the blue-eyed girl can’t understand her as the words sound like a whisper, and Hope just isn’t close enough. 

  
  


“What?” Hope asks, all unknowing.

  
  


“Nothing.”

  
  


“What do I do with this?” Hope stupidly questions, raising up Josie’s shirt pointedly. 

  
  


“Throw it away?” Freya spells sarcastically. 

  
  


“Don’t you think she’d get mad?” Hope asks dumbly, unable to comprehend much of anything at this point. 

  
  


“Honey, are you really that dull? Clean it, of course.” 

  
  


Hope chuckles, feeling kind of embarrassed. She still feels anxious after everything that’s occurred and nothing has worn off yet. It doesn’t mean she regrets spilling that drink, though. 

  
  


“Okay...can you continue what you were telling me? About Alaric and my dad? Josie isn’t here anymore,” Hope declares after a long moment. The girl even bothers to take one of Josie’s pieces of french toast, even if it is drowned in juice. 

  
  


It isn’t less appetizing to Hope, the sogginess is just a reminder of what Hope had done. She smiles, stuffing the pieces in her mouth. 

  
  


She’s still awaiting her aunt’s answer, however. The blonde sucks a breath in, unsure of whether it’s a good time to tell her niece anything. 

  
  


“Fine, but not here. It smells disgusting now, no thanks to your juice.” Her aunt looks around their table and both, holding back a gag. She gets up, tipping kindly as an apology for the mess. 

  
  


“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” the blonde continues, watching Hope as she gets up from her seat. 

  
  


A devious smile finds its way across Hope’s face, and she acknowledges it, “Yes...but what was I supposed to do? Watch her sabotage me?”

  
  


“You’re exaggerating a bit. What’d she even do?” 

  
  


Hope wants to throw up just thinking about it. 

  
  


“She ordered for me! Who even eats sausage like that?” Hope sounds exasperated, like it's incredulous that anyone would ever eat sausage with maple syrup. She frowns, “It’s like she was looking for the most disgusting thing on the menu!” 

  
  


“Okay, yeah, I definitely thought that was weird. You absolutely hated sausages when you were little,” Freya agrees, chuckling. It turns Hope’s frown deeper.

  
  


“I can’t believe you just sat there watching me suffer…” Hope shakes her head, but she’s joking at the same time. 

  
  


She’s also glad for the easy-going nature of her and her aunt’s relationship. Her aunt will always be one of her best friends. 

  
  


“Well, I just assumed your preference changed.” 

  
  


Hope smiles, hopping into her aunt’s car. 

  
  


-

  
  


The drive back to Hope’s dorm is filled with loud and obnoxious music, but it all feels like happiness to Hope. This is what she truly needs. 

  
  


“Wow, this campus has really grown.” Hope’s aunt is looking around the quad area as the pair make their way back to Hope’s dorm room. 

  
  


The comment serves as a reminder that, pretty much, most of Hope’s family were alumni of the school. 

  
  


“Glad to see the dorms aren’t that different,” the blonde states as they make their way through a different part of the dorm hall. 

  
  


Minutes later, they enter Hope's room. 

  
  


Aunt Freya starts to make small talk, commenting about aspects of the room and whatnot, but Hope interrupts her. 

  
  


“Stop...you’re trying to make me forget about Alaric,” Hope says, looking her aunt in the eye. 

  
  


“Fine. You caught me,” her aunt smiles, holding her hands up in surrender. She joins Hope on her bed, sitting next to the girl. 

  
  


The easiness in their conversation dies, as well as the smile on Freya’s face. 

  
  


“Look, so, how much do you know?” 

  
  


“All he said was that Alaric had betrayed him and then he talked to me about my future. He said that when I grew up, he needed me to take over the company. But...God, I just didn’t know he wasn’t going to be here,” Hope fills her aunt in, and realizes she knows pretty much nothing about the situation.

  
  


That night she had talked to her father, he just talked about her future, and how important she was to him. How he needed her. However, Hope never saw the severity of it.

  
  


She was _only_ fifteen when her father had given her the talk.

  
  


Hope thinks back to the accident, how she couldn’t even tell her parents goodbye.

  
  


They were just gone. 

  
  


It seems as though Freya knows exactly what Hope’s thinking because she starts, “You shouldn’t dwell on the accident, Hope. It just happened and now...I don’t even know. The rest of us are here for you and together, we need to move on,” Freya states, rubbing Hope’s shoulder. 

  
  


Hope imagines her mom, suffering for a second, and it splits her heart in a million pieces. The doctors had said that she died instantly, but her father hadn’t been so lucky. 

  
  


She pictures her mother, smiling at her from across the room. 

  
  


_This isn’t normal_. 

  
  


Her parents seemed happy, months ago. She knows that they only married because of her, that they never really loved each other. Not in the way that lovers do. 

  
  


It doesn’t make Hope hurt, however. They were truly a happy family, up until a few months ago.

  
  


Nonetheless, Hope holds on to Freya’s every word, feeling kind of offended. 

  
  


“Here for me? You and Elijah have been traveling almost everywhere, I actually thought you forgot about me…” Hope spits out. 

  
  


Hope thinks this conversation should’ve happened a long time ago.

  
  


“We were giving you time! We stayed by your side for weeks and you wouldn’t say a word to us. When we finally left and stopped bothering you, you seemed better. You just needed physical space, you needed to breathe. We called you every single day,” the words are too soft coming from Freya’s mouth and Hope’s stomach twists, feeling sort of guilty for ignoring her family members.

  
  


She hadn’t even realized it. She was just caught up with everything going on. 

  
  


It _was_ what she needed, though. Freya’s right about that. 

  
  


Her aunt continues, “Sometimes you picked up...and sometimes you didn’t. But it doesn’t mean we aren’t here for you,” Freya recalls, glancing around the room.

  
  


Mikaelsons seem to have a hard time coming to terms with real emotion. Hope doesn’t think that any of them truly mourned. It feels impossible.

  
  


Hope nods, smiling at her aunt, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring this up. I’ve just been stuck in my own head.” 

  
  


Hope says it kind of awkwardly, the words mixed up like puzzle pieces. 

  
  


“You’re not alone. Remember that, Hope.” 

  
  


For what feels like the millionth time, Hope nods. She smiles, and miraculously, no tears have fallen. 

  
  


“So did you still wanna hear that story? Because, I for one, am completely fine with _not_ telling it,” the blonde lingers, wanting to lighten the situation. She doesn’t want to see Hope upset anymore.

  
  


“You promised me!”

  
  


“Did I, though?” Freya raises an eyebrow and Hope shakes her head, laughing. 

  
  


“Wow.” 

  
  


“Fine, okay so believe it or not, your father and Alaric used to be friends.The best of friends, actually,” the blonde slowly says, waiting for Hope’s reaction.

  
  


“Wait...what?” Hope’s mouth falls open and the whites of her eyes are visible. 

  
  


_So this goes way back._

  
  


“They met here and had an idea to partner together to start a business,” she explains.

  
  


“What about?” 

  
  


“Well, maybe I could tell you if you’d stop interrupting…” Freya jokes, a playful look in her eye. 

  
  


“Shoot, sorry.” 

  
  


“It was a traveling agency, which is now Saltzman International, if you can deduct as far,” Aunt Freya says, as the dots in Hope’s head start to connect.

  
  


Wait. But her father would never allow his name _not_ to be on a franchise. 

  
  


Hope decides not to speak, awaiting the rest of the story. 

  
  


“A few months after they started the company, Klaus kind of had an affair. With Caroline, or who you know as the twins’ mother.” 

  
  


“That blonde lady I saw the other day?” Hope questions, a confused frown forming on her face.

  
  


Hope thinks back to college move-in day where she had assumed that the person standing next to Josie and Lizzie was their mom. 

  
  


Hope also thinks about her mom. Did her mom know?

  
  


She suspects that her parents had an open relationship, because they never really did love each other, but is still confused. 

  
  


“Probably,” Freya herself deduces. “Anyways, Alaric got really upset over it, even though him and Caroline weren’t even together. She was basically a surrogate because Alaric’s wife at the time couldn’t have kids.” 

  
  


“Did my dad tell you all of this?” Hope wonders how her aunt came by all the information.

  
  


“Of course not! Elijah filled me in. I was somewhere else at the time. I didn’t even know all of this had occurred,” Freya points out. She spaces out for a second and then realizes herself. “When Alaric found out about it, he kicked your dad from the partnership. But you see, the company was already making money, so Klaus got upset and felt cheated off of everything.” 

  
  


“They already had a contract put in place, so Klaus, I mean your dad, decided to file a lawsuit, suing Alaric. They became the worst of people in a matter of seconds,” Freya spouts out, remembering the information as if it was told to her yesterday. 

  
  


“I guess that’s what betrayal does to a person…” Hope mumbles, her thoughts speeding around her like a racetrack. 

  
  


Where does all of this leave her? 

  
  


“I think it was more than that. Hope, your father never trusted people, it’s like he just never learned how. You’re the same way,” the older woman talks and Hope feels another life lesson making its way into the conversation. 

  
  


Hope moves to respond, but hears a knock on the door. 

  
  


She gets up, opening the door. Hope sighs when she recognizes her best friend Maya. 

  
  


“Hey! I got your text!” Maya announces, but doesn’t bother looking at Hope. She runs over to where Aunt Freya is and the two embrace in a hug. 

  
  


Hope completely forgot that she told Maya about her aunt’s arrival. 

  
  


The blue-eyed girl watches as the pair engage in a conversation so she calls out, “I’m gonna go take a shower.” 

  
  


Absolutely no one responds to her. She rolls her eyes, forgetting just how close her best friend and aunt are. It’s weird, really. 

  
  


-

  
  


It’s now past the afternoon and Josie’s dirty shirt is still hanging off of Hope’s desk. 

  
  


Maya and Aunt Freya had left to go clothing shopping an hour ago and Hope had kindly declined their invitation. 

  
  


Josie still hasn’t come back from her class yet, or she’s somewhere else entirely. Hope isn’t entirely sure. 

  
  


She picks up Josie’s shirt and leaves her dorm. She knows she should clean it, it’s just the nice thing to do. Right? 

  
  


Hope picks up her other dirty laundry and heads towards the college’s laundry room. She had found it the first day, but is now having a little trouble coming back to it. 

  
  


When Hope eventually arrives at the laundry room, she pays using her credit card and throws all of the dirty clothes in the washer. She ends up just sitting there for an hour and a half, not having anything else to do. At least she had brought her bag, allowing herself the time to finish her assignments. 

  
  


She’s still thinking about what to do for her painting, though. Hope knows it isn’t due for a month, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to waste time. This is something she actually cares about. However, she’ll absolutely procrastinate on anything else. 

  
  


When Hope gets back to her room, she hesitates slightly—very—briefly, before pulling out her art supplies from where she had been hiding them in her desk. 

  
  


It’s now dark and Josie isn’t here, which makes Hope a little worried. Is this what Josie had felt a few days earlier? Hope leaves Josie’s shirt lying on top of her bed and throws her own newly-cleaned laundry underneath her desk. 

  
  


She doesn’t bother putting them into her drawers, too preoccupied with thinking about what to paint. 

  
  


Hope ends up sitting and staring at the small canvas in front of her for nearly thirty minutes until she hears a knock at the door. It’s sudden and desperate and Hope gets a little scared, admittedly. 

  
  


Again, it’s Maya. 

  
  


She’s carrying three bags of clothes and Hope gets up to help her. 

  
  


“Where’s my aunt?” 

  
  


“She had to go back home, she’ll be coming back again I think. I don’t know, she said she’d call you,” Maya talks, handing over the bags to Hope who takes them quickly. Maya sighs, feeling the weight of the bags finally gone after carrying them through the whole parking lot.

  
  


“Were you carrying them this whole time?” 

  
  


“Yeah. I first went to my room, but Penelope and Josie were inside so I quickly got the _hell_ out of there.” 

  
  


_Oh_. 

  
  


“So that’s where she’s been,” Hope mutters and when Maya hears it she throws her friend a look. Hope is still putting the bags on her bed and is turned around, so she doesn’t quite catch it. 

  
  


“I got you a few things…” Maya says smiling. She pulls out two dresses and a hoodie from one of the bags.

  
  


Hope groans. “You didn’t…”

  
  


“I did!”

  
  


Hope takes the clothing in her hands and picks out the hoodie first, “Wow, I actually like this.” 

  
  


“I knew you would.” 

  
  


The hoodie is light grey and is Hope’s favorite fabric. Hope smiles, genuinely impressed. 

  
  


Hope sifts through the two dresses, throwing a glare at her friend but hanging them up nonetheless. The first dress is a light-pink one, with two thin straps. It looks like a clubbing dress and Hope finds herself imagining what she’d look like in it. 

  
  


She concludes that she likes both of them and thanks Maya. Hope doesn’t think she’ll ever wear them, although it was a thoughtful gift. 

  
  


“Of course, I bought them for the after-party on Friday!” 

  
  


“The what now?” Hope says confused, not hearing of any party until now.

  
  


“After the football game, there’s a party,” Maya clarifies, trying not to put too much emphasis in it. She doesn’t want to scare away Hope. 

  
  


“No way. Remember what happened at the last party?” 

  
  


“You mean when you told me to fall and I embarrassed myself for you in front of everyone?” Maya wits, holding a blank look on her face.

  
  


“Okay, fine. But we’re freshmen, aren’t we gonna get bullied?” Hope knows that they won’t, but she’s still trying to pull herself out of the situation. 

  
  


“Actually, it’s a freshmen party. It’s this guy I know from my Economics class,” Maya clears up. 

  
  


Hope nods, already mentally preparing herself for the party.

  
  


“We should invite Sam and the boys over,” Maya suggests, although Hope knows that she’s probably already texted them. 

  
  


“It’s a Wednesday night,” Hope deadpans, but her brunette friend doesn’t seem to care.

  
  


“We haven’t seen them in forever. Anyways, they’re already on their way.” 

  
  


“Well, what are we gonna do?” Hope questions, already fixing up her room for her friends.

  
  


“I was thinking we could play a game…” Maya trails, a devilish smile on her lips. 

  
  


“Or we can study,” Hope says, knowing where this conversation is going.

  
  


“It’s literally the first week of school, Hope.” Maya’s eyes bore into Hope’s and Hope looks away first. 

  
  


“Okay, whatever. What are you thinking?” 

  
  


“Never have I ever?” The sly smile is back on the brunette’s face, and warning signs start to pop up in Hope’s mind, seemingly fighting to alert Hope. Maya is definitely trying to get something out of Hope, she knows.

  
  


“With what alcohol?” 

  
  


“Pick up the bag nearest to your nightstand,” Maya glints, almost near hysterical. 

  
  


“I knew that bag was heavier than it was supposed to be. How’d you sneak that shit in? Wait...how’d you even get it? You look like you’re twelve.” 

  
  


Maya’s smirk doesn’t even fade at the insult. “Think a little, Hope.” 

  
  


After a second, the blue-eyed girl pauses. “Aunt Freya? No effing way…”

  
  


“Well, her exact words were ' _Have fun bitches!’_ but think what you wanna think,” Maya seems to mimic the blonde perfectly. 

  
  


“Did you hypnotize her or something?” Hope thinks Maya definitely tricked her, there is no other option. 

  
  


“Is it really that unbelievable that your aunt wants you to have fun?” 

  
  


“No, but—” the auburn-headed girl gets cut off almost immediately. 

  
  


“Then stop. This is college, Hope. After what you’ve been through this year, you deserve everything,” Maya is now genuine and tries to offer some guidance to her friend. 

  
  


“And alcohol is supposed to be everything?” Hope ignores the first part of her sentence, not really wanting to talk about the accident for the second time this day. Instead, she makes easy banter. 

  
  


“Shut up,” Maya says, hitting Hope across the arm with a laugh. 

  
  


-

  
  


Hope’s friends arrive shortly, knocking on the door obnoxiously. She wonders how they always seem to arrive together at the same time.

  
  


“Are you guys drunk already? What’s with all the noise?” Hope looks at them pointedly after opening the door. They walk up to her, all with different greetings and hugs. 

  
  


“Says the girl who’s yelling. Did you start without us?” Sam pouts, and Hope tries not to slap her. 

  
  


She did miss her friends, though. Hope forgot how _not_ alone she feels when she’s with them. 

  
  


They all enter, almost running over each other at the door. Sebastian goes for the bottle, where Maya is in the corner keeping it hostage.

  
  


“Hey, control yourselves!” Maya shouts, pushing the boy off. 

  
  


“I’ve just been through hell for three days. What do you want from me?” Sebastian says, exaggerating just a bit. 

  
  


“You sound like an addict,” Ethan says, but also goes for the bottle in his sister’s hands. 

  
  


After Sebastian and Ethan have finally calmed down, the friends circle on the carpet and sit down. Maya lets them know about the game and they all agree.

  
  


“Why are we even doing this? We all know each other’s secrets…” Hope says and Maya turns viciously at that.

  
  


“Do we, though?” Maya asks, but Hope notices that she isn’t curious—it’s merely a taunt. 

  
  


“Truth or dare, then?” Sam ignores Maya, asking Hope the question.

  
  


Hope has always loved how Sam doesn’t poke too much, or knows when not to go into her business. 

  
  


Hope freezes up at the question, feeling like it’s not a good option—it’s not a good option at all. She’s played too many times with her friend to know that Never Have I Ever is a better choice.

  
  


“How are we gonna drink then?” Sebastian thinks aloud, upset. 

  
  


“Yeah I agree,” Hope says, but is agreeing for a completely different reason.

  
  


“Okay, Never Have I Ever it is. I’ll start,” Ethan grabs the bottle and Hope just knows he’s gonna say something that he’s done just so he can finally drink.

  
  


-

  
  


It’s fifteen minutes later and the one _gigantic_ bottle that the group had is completely empty. Maya turns on a playlist from her phone, connecting it to a speaker that Sam had brought.

  
  


_Wow. They really planned this, didn’t they?_

  
  


It’s a five-person dance party and Hope’s basically laughing at all her friends.

  
  


A few minutes go by when Sebastian calls out, “We should invite Lizzie!” 

  
  


Hope just barely hears him over the music. 

  
  


He takes out his phone and Hope grabs it before he could do anything, “Oh, I don’t think so.” 

  
  


She takes his phone, stuffing it in a drawer when he’s turned away. Sebastian doesn’t seem to care much, already having forgotten what he was about to do. 

  
  


Next, Hope grabs Maya, “Hey, shouldn’t we lower the music? We don’t want to get in trouble.” 

  
  


“Fine, you whore!” Maya yells, a little too loudly, and moves to grab her phone, turning off the music completely. 

  
  


Hope frowns but is a bit amused. Hope herself is also very much intoxicated, but she can still control herself. 

  
  


Hope hears the door open, but can’t concentrate on who it is as she’s lying on her own bed, next to Maya who’s laughing at nothing. 

  
  


The lights turn on and Hope feels her eyes burn, having been too adjusted to the darkness for a long time. 

  
  


“My eyes!” Ethan screams, touching his hands to face. He sounds like he’s dying, very much feeling the same pain Hope is. 

  
  


Hope blinks and gets up. She sees her own roommate across from her. 

  
  


“I’m sorry!” Josie apologizes and turns the lights back off. Hope notices how she has her bag in her hands, then remembers where she’s come from. _Definitely_ not from class. It’s too late for that. 

  
  


Her heart drops. 

  
  


“Josie! You should join us,” Maya yells from across the room, and there is no music to even out the noise level so it ends up terrorizing Hope’s ears. 

  
  


“With what? We don’t have any more liquor,” Sam says but it comes off more as a complaint, her voice whiny and childish. 

  
  


Josie chuckles. 

“It’s okay. I think she’s had enough fun for the night,” Hope mentions, feeling a snake crawl throughout each word she pronounces, jealousy a better monster than her. It defeats her easily, crawling through her skin, finishing her sentences for her. 

  
  


It makes her upset because she had _just_ forgotten about Josie. Now the girl is here. She’s here _again_. 

  
  


“What?” Josie asks, uncertain of where Hope is specifically coming from. The girl had just arrived, anyhow.

  
  


“You heard me,” Hope sputters. 

  
  


It causes Josie to falter, an action—an emotion—Hope can finally interpret. 

  
  


“Okay, I think Hope has had too much to drink…” Maya grabs her friend before Hope can make a bigger fool out of herself. “My sincerest apologies.” 

  
  


“What? I’m fine,” Hope pushes the girl off. Heading towards Josie. Yet again. 

  
  


There isn’t a great distance between them, as the dorm isn’t big, but it still feels like forever.

  
  


Hope takes a second to pause, seeing Josie in her hoodie. She almost forgot. 

  
  


Josie is still looking as cute as ever and Hope feels something sprout against her heart, opening her feelings up like a flower—possessiveness. 

  
  


She feels like she’s just been shot, and backs up, the impact exhausting her. An anger passes through her. She imagines Penelope and Josie kissing, Penelope and Josie having sex. Josie throwing _her_ hoodie on the floor, as they undress each other. 

  
  


Hope feels nauseous, hating what she’s thinking; hating what she’s feeling. This isn’t her. At all. 

  
  


“You’re not,” Josie finds the strength to push back, finally understanding what Hope was getting at. The brunette brushes past Hope, as well as all of Hope’s friends.

  
  


“We should go,” Sam utters, feeling awkward. 

  
  


Hope also forgets about the audience of friends behind her. She’s caused another scene. God, she can’t be more predictable. 

  
  


“I’ll walk you guys back,” Hope states, feeling like she’s about to explode. 

  
  


They file out, one after the other, Maya taking her bags of clothes with her. 

  
  


Sebastian and Ethan head off one way, saying their goodbyes. 

  
  


“You have a class tomorrow morning, Ethan!” Maya says to remind him, acting just like a mother.

  
  


“I know sis, thanks. Goodnight you guys.” 

  
  


The trio head towards Sam and Maya’s side of the dorm building. It’s dark outside and they’re hiding behind bushes and silently walking, trying not to garner any attention. Hope doubts that there are any campus security out at this time. She won’t take the chance, though. 

  
  


“Any chance I can stay with one of you tonight?” Hope desperately questions. 

  
  


Maya laughs in her face.

  
  


“Yeah, I don’t think so. You don’t even have an overnight bag and you still haven’t returned the clothes you borrowed the other night,” Maya just about makes fun of her. 

  
  


“Whatever.” 

  
  


Maya and Sam turn their separate ways in the dorm hall and Hope says goodnight before making her way back to her own dorm. 

  
  


The whole time she prays that a serial killer or murderer doesn’t come for her.

  
  


It’s a fear that almost every girl on campus has. It’s a _very_ real fear. 

  
  


The girl reaches the door, opening it. Hope hears the shower-head running from the bathroom, reaching the conclusion that the brunette is in the shower. Hope doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. 

  
  


Hope looks around the room, cleaning up the cups on the floor and spraying perfume around. Her dorm instantly feels better. Her senses are still heightened and the only thing that doesn’t go away is how thick the room feels. 

  
  


She can’t seem to calm down and the alcohol doesn’t act as it should. It doesn’t decrease her heart rate, it doesn’t ease her mind’s worries. 

  
  


The only thing it’s done is impair her judgment, that she knows. Hope acknowledges that she never would’ve confronted Josie in front of her friends, or even alone. She feels irrational and knows she just can’t talk. She needs to will herself not to speak when Josie comes back. 

  
  


Maybe she can fall asleep right now so she wouldn’t even get the chance to do so. 

  
  


Her plan fails miserably. The too thin walls, the too appealing voice of Josie’s. 

  
  


Who even sings knowing that someone else is in the room? 

  
  


Hope is sure the girl is mocking her. They’ve talked about this—the paper-thin nature of the walls. Maybe Hope could insult her, tell her that her voice is horrible. 

  
  


Is this payback? For the girl’s comment earlier?

  
  


Hope becomes deluded with false hope. It stresses out her senses, looking for something more. 

  
  


Josie quiets, her singing coming to a stop. It seems as if she's come to the realization that Hope is in the room. 

  
  


The water also stops. Hope sits on top of her bed, wondering if that means the girl is done. 

  
  


However, the water turns back on moments later. Hope can basically hear Josie’s breathing pattern, and wonders if the girl is being detestable on purpose. 

  
  


Hope finds herself in some crazy sex-scenario. It etches itself in her mind, Josie’s sounds on the other side only acting as reinforcement. 

  
  


Hope intakes a breath. This is just the alcohol right? It’s making her turned on.

  
  


That’s it.

  
  


This is unheard of. She feels like a pervert but at the same time blames Josie. 

  
  


Josie _has_ to know. 

  
  


Hope starts to back up, wanting to be as far away from the bathroom as possible. She sits in the corner of her bed, her legs bent out in front of her. 

  
  


It’s a good enough distance to block the sounds, although they stop soon anyways.

  
  


Hope’s drunken mind is telling her to jump across the bed, let Josie know all about Hope’s intentions. Hope’s drunken mind tells her to open the door and find out if Josie can possibly feel the same. If this feeling deep in her gut and in her heart is right. If there’s more. 

  
  


Would it be so bad to know? 

  
  


Josie comes out of the bathroom, much like she’s done before. It feels like a habit, watching the brunette come out right after another fight. 

  
  


Do they fix it?

  
  


Do they leave it alone?

  
  


Who makes the choice? 

  
  


Part of Hope wanted to be drunk to forget about Josie. It’s just made her more prone to think about the girl, though.

  
  


Hope feels bad. She’s thinking about this girl when she should be thinking about her parents.

  
  


They’ve _just_ died. Their death was recent. 

  
  


Being so preoccupied with the thought of Josie, Hope feels, is disrespectful to her parents.

  
  


She should be grieving. 


	12. Chapter 12

The brunette comes out holding a towel that’s enclosing her laundry—enclosing Hope’s hoodie.

  
  


Her hair is still dripping wet and Hope has decided that she won’t say anything to the girl. Hope has already done enough and it isn’t wise. 

  
  


Josie walks over to her own bed, finding the t-shirt that Hope had placed there hours ago. A small smile finds her face, “Oh, uh, thanks.” 

  
  


“Yeah,” Hope says, trying to tear her attention away from the girl. Her eyes glance up towards the ceiling and they stay there as she lays down. 

  
  


“I mean, it was your fault in the first place, so I guess this is making up for it,” Josie speaks, but isn’t saying it as seriously as Hope would first think. The girl trails off, somewhat waiting for Hope to look at her.

  
  


Hope doesn’t spare another glance. 

  
  


She tries to keep her face expressionless and blank in front of Josie’s searching eyes, but Hope is really hanging on to the girl’s every word.

  
  


“I have work tomorrow morning,” Josie talks again, the only voice in the room for minutes. 

  
  


A pause. 

  
  


“So?” Hope asks, wondering why the girl cares enough to tell her. 

  
  


“Just to apologize in advance if I wake you up,” the girl says, but Hope thinks there has to be some other reason. 

  
  


A part of Hope feels like the girl just wanted to tell her, to fill her in, to force Hope to know just exactly where she’d be.

  
  


She also wonders if it means that Josie’s gonna purposefully wake her up, because she’s done so already once. 

  
  


“Does that mean you’re gonna wake me up?” Hope slightly smirks, trying to play civil, but voicing her thoughts as well. 

  
  


“Wow, finally more than one-word sentences,” Josie scoffs, throwing her laundry in a plastic bag. She ties a knot, tucking the bag underneath her bed where there’s space. 

  
  


Hope ignores her, taking the conversation back to Josie’s work, “What’s the deal with your job?” 

  
  


“Huh?” Josie’s eyebrows raise in confusion as she sits on top of her bed.

  
  


“Well, why do you have one?” Hope clears up, sitting up from her own position to face the girl. 

  
  


She feels too vulnerable laying down in front of Josie.

  
  


“God, why does everyone keep asking me that?” The brunette sounds pissed and a little annoyed. Hope flinches when she realizes she’s probably hit a nerve. 

  
  


Hope didn’t think it would be that big of a deal, honestly. 

  
  


“Maybe because it’s weird…” Hope says, shrugging her shoulders. 

  
  


“And what’s so weird about having a job?” 

  
  


Hope tries to think of a response. She really does.

  
  


It isn’t her fault that nothing comes to her. It isn’t. 

  
  


“Exactly,” Josie states, completely satisfied, after a long moment passes without any response from Hope. 

  
  


“It’s just…” the shorter girl trails off, looking for the right words to say, “...weird.” 

  
  


“You said that already,” Josie points out. 

  
  


“I know.” Hope glances away, her breath catching in her throat. “Yet you haven’t explained why.” 

  
  


“I don’t owe you anything,” the brunette quiets down, feeling uneasy at the interrogation. 

  
  


“No,” Hope turns over, pulling her sheets back over her body as she lays down and turns away. Her voice comes out so bitter, it surprises both of them, “You don’t.” 

  
  


-

  
  


The days to Friday drag on much too lengthily in Hope’s opinion. She barely sees Josie on Thursday, and when she finally does see her, no talking occurs whatsoever. It seems as though Josie has work or another class Friday morning, as Hope misses her in the morning and seems to miss her after Hope’s own classes. 

  
  


The taller girl just hasn’t been in their shared dorm. Hope guesses it’s because she’s preoccupied with school or her job. The girl doesn’t even allow herself to think—as it’d be too painful—of what else could be preoccupying Josie.

  
  


Hope thinks that it’s unsettling how much she seems to be infatuated with the girl. 

  
  


After Hope’s three classes for the day are over, Maya joins her in her dorm. They talk about their classes and fill each other in on how their day went. Sam comes over an hour later, after her own class. 

  
  


“Dude, I love how your roommate is never here,” Sam says and it throws a spike in Hope’s chest. 

  
  


Some people would love having an absent roommate, Hope knows. But the situation is just so different. 

  
  


Maya gives Hope an almost sad glance, causing Hope to feel pathetic. 

  
  


“We can literally come over all the time,” Sam continues and truly isn’t meaning to be insensitive. It’s not like Hope had told her everything that’s been going on with Josie. The girl has really only confided in Maya. 

  
  


“Yeah,” Hope smiles at her best friend, “I guess so.” 

  
  


Sam and Maya start trying on the clothes that they brought as the trio continue to get ready for the party. Hope sits on her bed, watching the pair. She really isn’t interested in this party.

  
  


“So are we supposed to go to the football game?” Hope questions, picking up her phone and scrolling through her apps. 

  
  


“Of course not,” Maya tells the girl, like she’s silly for even thinking so. Sam even laughs as she puts on a pair of jeans. 

  
  


“But isn’t it a football game after-party?” Hope spares Maya a weird look, and feels irritated at the concept of college. She really just wants to pack her shit and go home. 

  
  


A few minutes pass by when Hope feels something grab her foot and she’s being pulled off the bed, “Hope, it’s time to get ready. Ouch...stop kicking!” 

  
  


Maya and Sam are both wearing jeans matched with some halter top. 

  
  


“What happened to the dresses?” Hope questions when she finally sees that her friends aren’t wearing what they had on an hour ago. 

  
  


“We talked about it, were you not listening?” Sam says, a little pissed as she looks around Hope’s closet to put an outfit together for the shorter girl. 

  
  


“Uh...no?” 

  
  


“We decided it was too extra,” Maya speaks up, after a long second of panting because of Hope’s childish behavior. 

  
  


“So then what am I supposed to wear?” Hope asks, like she’s four years old and can’t put an outfit together herself. 

  
  


“You’re telling me that you’ve been laying down on that bed for ten minutes and have no clue what to wear?” Maya sounds a bit exasperated, but it’s still probably due to the fact that she got kicked in the face. 

  
  


“It’s okay, Maya. We knew we’d end up having to pick something for her, anyways,” Sam says, but the sound is muffled as she seems to be a foot deep into Hope’s closet. 

  
  


It’s five minutes later, when the trio concludes that Hope looks best in a tom-boyish style outfit. When she’s done changing, she pulls on a pair of heeled-black boots. 

  
  


The boots add to her height and Hope herself is feeling a little confident with them. However, she doesn’t remember buying the pair of heels, so she guesses it’s either Sam’s or Maya’s. 

  
  


Maya has just finished Hope’s make-up, when she steps back to look over the girl, “Wow. How are you not showing any skin and still manage to look hot?”

  
  


“Should I take offense to that?” 

  
  


“Probably,” Maya shrugs and moves over to fix Hope’s shirt. 

  
  


Hope rolls her eyes, moving over to her desk to put her favorite necklace on. She tucks it underneath her shirt. It isn’t showing, but Hope still cares enough to keep it on.

  
  


Her father gave it to her.

  
  


“When should we leave?” Hope says, cleaning up the mess of clothes that are scattered throughout the floor. 

  
  


“I called Seb and Ethan. They should be in over in twenty, and then we can leave,” Sam recalls, moving to help Hope with the litter. 

  
  


“Well, there’s still an hour before the party starts,” Hope sort of complains, feeling bored and uncomfortable in the room. 

  
  


“Yeah, why’d we get ready so early?” Sam sides with her, and Maya looks between the both of them. 

  
  


“Oh, I’m sorry, did you guys want to take off our outfits and then put them on again in thirty minutes?” Maya remarks, checking the time.

  
  


“Smart-ass,” Hope mumbles under her breath, turning her attention back to her phone.

  
  


-

  
  


The boys arrive and they all start to head towards the parking lot, moving in the direction of Maya’s car. 

  
  


“I’m so excited,” Sebastian smiles, and Hope knows it’s probably only because Lizzie is coming.

  
  


Does that mean Josie’s coming as well? The girl is in high-hopes that the evening can afford, at the least, to bring the pair together, just so she can see the girl, just to receive a glimpse. 

  
  


Hope hangs onto the thought for the entire duration of the drive. 

  
  


The drive is slow as Maya decides to take her time, not really wanting to show up early. They stop at the gas station to waste time but also to get gas. 

  
  


The group arrives at the party, almost an hour late. Ethan had gotten stomach cramps and they ended up having to go back, causing him to sit on the toilet for a solid forty minutes. 

  
  


Hope feels bad because she knows Ethan must feel guilty, but at the same time the situation is too funny to even dwell over it. 

  
  


Well, at least they didn’t have to worry about arriving early. 

  
  


They enter and immediately Sam drags the boys with her, shouting out, “I need a drink.” 

  
  


Maya and Hope make their way to the kitchen, following the trio ahead of them. They all grab drinks as Maya and Hope move to check out the music. 

  
  


They dance for a while until they’re interrupted. 

  
  


“Bird boy is coming,” Maya whispers into Hope’s ears, nudging the girl forward with her arm, turning her around in the direction of the boy. 

"Why do we even call him that?" Hope says back, underneath her breath, the words not immediately registering.

"'Cause his hair looks like a bird's nest." Hope chuckles but her laughter gets cut short when Maya starts to abandon her just as Landon closes the distance. 

  
  


“No, don’t leave me!” Hope tries to hold on to Maya’s shirt in order to pull her back, but she misses by a long shot.

  
  


“You’re on your own!” Maya shouts, and Hope can only watch as she makes her way to Sam and Ethan. Hope doesn’t even know where Sebastian is now. 

  
  


Why did they all decide to split up again?

  
  


Landon starts to walk towards her, and Hope inaudibly groans. She’s already made eye-contact with him, so she really can’t ignore him.

  
  


The girl hopes that Landon doesn’t ask her about the art class, doesn’t ask her how she’s enjoying college, or what painting she’s settled on for the assignment. 

  
  


“Hey, Hope, you’re here!” He calls out as he inches his way towards her. She can barely make anything else out but her name, which is something almost everyone is conditioned to grasp, to hear. 

  
  


Hope makes a guess, “I’m good, how are you?” 

  
  


Landon’s face curls up in a strange way, and Hope knows that she has most likely made a mistake but she shrugs it off before she can let the embarrassment fill within her. It’s not that far of a stretch, anyways. 

  
  


“I’m pretty good, thanks. How are your classes?” Landon asks, almost boxing her in from where she’s standing. 

  
  


“Uh, better than expected,” Hope tries to respond as clearly as possible, but her focus pulls somewhere else immediately. 

  
  


It’s an instinctual feeling, like Hope just knows. She spots a familiar, tall brunette across the room and settles her eyes on the girl, even with Landon talking right in front of her.

  
  


It’s horrible, Hope can acknowledge that much. It’s the worst kind of conversation etiquette, but at least she’s responding, right? 

  
  


Hope’s heart drops to her stomach as Josie looks around the room, and Hope feels like she’s going to get caught any second now. It's weird to pay so much attention to girl, especially when's not getting any back. 

  
  


“I feel you on that,” the boy tries to talk over the music, tries to pull Hope’s attention. 

  
  


“Funny,” Hope replies, glancing over his shoulder as Josie walks farther away from her. At this point, she really isn’t hearing the boy. His words are jumbled to her ears as her eyes are the only things working at the moment. Hope follows the girl with her eyes, envying everyone Josie looks at. 

  
  


“How are you? Like really?” It makes Hope snap back to him because she’s sure she knows what he’s insinuating. It makes Hope cringe but flutter at the same time cause, of course, he’s one of those guys. A boy who allows such a weakness, a boy who pauses and cares. It is scarce nowadays. 

  
  


A guy that truly wants to get to know you. It goes two different ways. For one, if a person’s interested, all bodes well. If the person’s stuck on someone else, then it comes off as irritating. Hope is stumped on the latter. 

  
  


Hope feels for him, she does. She hates this situation she’s in, and she hates how he keeps dragging himself into it, like he doesn’t know any better. He doesn’t. 

  
  


“Look, Landon—”

  
  


“I’m just here, if you ever need someone to talk to,” He interrupts her, like he knows what she’s about to say. 

  
  


“That’s kind of you,” Hope smiles but it’s crooked and forced. She shouldn’t be rude to him. He’s just trying to be nice. Why should she punish him for it? 

  
  


All of a sudden, Hope’s eyes feel the same interest. Again. They pull away from Landon’s face—his too friendly exterior—another time. 

  
  


The interest in her eyes spreads to her body, capturing her heart, holding it hostage, forcing it to beat fast. 

  
  


Hope feels nervous all of a sudden and Mikaelsons _don’t_ get nervous. A thrill shoots itself across her legs, paralyzing her movement, and at the same time her eyes glance up at Josie, the brunette seems to feel the same pull—the same enchantment. Josie stops walking and freezes instantly in her spot. She pauses, meeting Hope’s eyes.

  
  


The brunette spares her a look—one conscious, mindful look—and it eats Hope alive. Josie’s eyes seem to devour Hope’s appearance: Hope’s heels, her pants, her shirt, her face. Hope grows confused at how explicit Josie is being. 

  
  


It looks like Josie is hungry, like desire ate her all up and left her starving. Like Josie’s been looking for her, waiting for her. Almost as if she's there forher. Hope finds herself aching to join the girl, to dance with her, to ease her desire-filled thoughts. 

  
  


It makes Hope uncomfortable and a completely different feeling also accompanies the discomfort. She's terribly far, but Hope can still recognize the look in Josie's eyes, told by her facial expression and the glint that's visible in her iris. 

  
  


Landon’s conversation is now only a hum in her ears, as Hope feels agony and anticipation collide in her mind. It makes her anxious because Josie seems to start to make the long walk up to her, and as she strides, Hope feels a new type of anxiety. This isn't the Josie she knows. This girl seems reachable, but she's most likely drunk and Hope knows what alcohol can do to people. How it can create brave individuals who are ready to throw themselves on the line of embarrassment. 

  
  


Hope wants to flee, wants to run away, at the thought that the girl is coming her way. She panics, but nothing shows on her face. 

  
  


The blue-eyed girl and Josie haven’t talked for almost two days, and Hope sobers almost instantly as Josie gets closer. 

  
  


Each step the girl takes feels like forever and Hope’s stuck with glancing between the person she’s supposed to be talking to and the person past his shoulder. 

  
  


A smile sparks on Josie’s face and the brunette doesn’t seem to look at Hope anymore. Their eye-contact is now only a far-flung memory. Josie just walks past her, bumping into her, brushing their shoulders. 

  
  


Hope begins to think she was just being deluded. It’s the only explanation. Josie would never walk up to her so fearlessly, so determined. 

  
  


It doesn’t seem like Landon notices, as he’s rambling about something Hope isn’t even entirely aware of. 

  
  


It feels like some kind of rejection, an expectation that can only be filled with a false sense of becoming; a false sense of fulfillment. Hope starts to debate whether or not Josie was even looking at her in the first place. Perhaps it was someone behind Hope, one of Josie's friends. 

  
  


It makes Hope wonder rather feverishly about Josie. She shows up to a party but not her own dorm? Hope knows that the girl has been ignoring her. Hell, they’ve been ignoring each other. 

  
  


Wednesday night was hard and Thursday wasn’t any easier. 

  
  


“...I just didn’t think she’d actually throw away all of our papers. Especially in front of us,” Landon finishes and Hope is able to catch the end of it. She guesses that he’s probably talking about their art professor. 

  
  


“I know. But you have to admit, that was kind of funny,” Hope speaks, finally able to cast her attention away from the brunette. Since the girl is now behind her, she has no excuse to look. 

  
  


Hope’s never realized how strong her emotions were until now. She’s never felt her heart beat so fast, never heard it so loud. 

  
  


But is this just the glamour and excitement of the moment? Is it impulsivity running through Hope’s veins or real, sincere feelings?

  
  


“You’re right, it did want to make me laugh. Plus, I guess our essays are still on our laptops if we ever need them,” Landon confides, seeming to ease up about the subject at the realization. 

  
  


Hope doesn’t miss how Landon continues to draw closer to her. Simultaneously, Hope doesn’t feel the need to step back. She needs a distraction. Josie is just a game, they’re only ever playing with each other. It doesn’t mean anything. 

  
  


_It was just a game_.

  
  


She’s gotten no hint of confirmation from Josie’s side and it slowly doesn’t bother her anymore. Not when she’s here. Not when there’s other people that care for her explicitly. 

  
Like Landon. 

  
  


Although Hope’s being a hypocrite, at this point she’s detached. It happened—Josie happened—and now it’s done. 

  
  


Hope’s exterior changes in seconds.

  
  


“Are you nervous about painting?” Hope asks, actually starting the conversation this time. She forces herself to be interested, forces herself to be _interesting_. It's exactly what she doesn't want to do, but now there’s no point. No one’s going to save her, not Maya, not her friends. 

  
  


“Yeah, of course. I don’t paint, it’s not something I do." Landon deflates, perhaps upset that he can’t relate to Hope’s own ability to be artistic. “Mine will turn out horrible, but I like the assignment cause it’s something different.” 

  
  


“I know you probably don’t, but I hope that we get more assignments like this. I feel like I’ll be more interested in the class,” the auburn-headed girl reveals, sipping on the drink in her hand. She almost forgot it was even there.

  
  


“Not interested enough?” Landon jokes, a playful smile flying across his face.

  
  


“Maybe a little too much,” she says, finding herself smiling as well. Her words are spirited, the monotony in them, previously, nowhere to be found. Landon comes closer, almost towering over the girl.

  
  


“I think it’s safe to say that—”

  
  


Landon can’t even continue on as he’s pushed aside, an arm hung over his shoulder. 

  
  


“Hey, Landon,” Josie interrupts the two, and an immediate frown takes over Hope’s face. She steps back, feeling unprepared and exposed. 

  
  


“Uh, hey, Josie...I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Landon says and it turns Hope off in less than a second. In the middle of _what_? 

  
  


Hope thinks she’s being too aggressive because it probably isn’t what she thinks it means. They were only just talking. 

Hope doesn’t say anything, lowering her gaze to the floor. She can feel Josie’s eyes on her, but the last thing she wants to do is submit to the pressure. 

  
  


“Oh, you’re okay,” Josie motions to the boy, shrugging him off. She moves on, “I have to talk to Hope.” 

  
  


Hope notices how the taller girl is talking to him but staring at her. She wonders what Josie has to say, or why’d she interrupt them. 

  
  


“Alright, I’ll go join your sister,” Landon states, wandering off to find Lizzie, who Hope noticed earlier is with Rafael. He bids Hope goodbye first. 

  
  


Hope finally comes to face the girl, who’s demeanor is nonchalant and expressionless. A moment passes by and Josie still hasn’t said a word. Hope raises her eyebrows at the girl, inviting her to talk. 

  
  


She doesn’t. 

  
  


After another moment passes, Hope rolls her eyes, “What’d you want?” Hope leans in so she can hear the brunette better over the loud music, but when Hope gets closer, Josie’s mouth is still shut. 

  
  


There’s a look on her face—the same look Josie had ten minutes before. But now, it’s stronger, and Hope feels dizzy all over again. Josie's acting quite strange and Hope looks around for any of Josie's friends or even Penelope. A thought floats in Hope's mind that she hasn't seen Penelope yet. Is that why Josie's being so direct? 

  
  


She wonders what first garnered the dazed look in Josie's eyes. It’s something Hope has never seen before, and it seems the look has only developed with alcohol; there’s a bottle in Josie’s hand and it’s something classy, not keg beer. 

  
  


The girl is eyeing her rather strangely, like she’s thinking about doing something. Hope has quite the idea—Josie’s pupils are noticeably blown and Hope knows she definitely isn’t on drugs. 

  
  


Hope tries to convince herself that Josie isn’t looking at her lips, and that she definitely isn’t looking at Josie’s. 

  
  


“Uh, nothing.” 

  
  


Josie seems more than tipsy, as she’s slightly rocking back and forth.

  
  


“What? Then why’d you…” Hope stops, unable to find the words. She steps back, “You’re drunk.” 

  
  


Does Josie only want her when she’s drunk? Hope’s heart pangs, and it’s hard to forgive her pride.

  
  


Josie shakes her head, “I’m not.” 

  
  


“What do you want from me?” Hope repeats, a bite on her tongue. She’s irritated and more than hurt. 

  
  


The girl still doesn’t speak and there’s a hesitation that Hope recognizes in her eyes, like the girl didn’t truly know what she expected out of bothering Landon and her. Josie seems to realize it, backing off as well. Her daze comes to a stop. 

  
  


“Why’d you interrupt us?” At this point, Hope’s tired of asking questions and more than annoyed at not getting answers. Josie looks at the ground, feeling awkward as she’s unable to come up with anything. She falls short every time. 

  
  


Hope laughs cold-heartedly and mumbles, “Pathetic.” The ugly remark comes off of her tongue, when something else can’t. 

  
  


She takes a deep breath as Josie doesn’t bother to react. Hope wonders why the brunette would bother to come and interrupt them at all, why come if she was only going to be indifferent and silent. Teasing is all she does. A provoker is all she is. 

  
  


She turns away, almost jogging to find her friends. Something like relief falls on her shoulders, finally able to see Josie vulnerable, although she still has no clue where it came from. She wonders if Josie was looking at her like that—so sensually—because she might have feelings for Hope or something else entirely. 

  
  


She finds Maya and Sam laughing in a corner of the room, almost spilling their drinks over each other. Hope takes away their drinks before any more alcohol can touch the carpet. Maya whines immediately, “Hey! Why’d you do that?” 

  
  


“Maya, look at the damn floor,” Hope says, placing their drinks on a table. Maya pats a damp spot on the carpet with the heel of her foot. 

  
  


“Oh.” 

  
  


Hope laughs and Sam hugs the blue-eyed girl, “Hope, have fun!” She takes her drink back from off the table, handing it to the girl.

  
  


“No, I can’t anymore. I already drank enough, I have to drive you guys home, remember?” Hope explains, wishing she could just steal the bottle that was in Josie’s hand and down it all. 

  
  


But she can’t. 

  
  


Sam nods, “Okay...we should meet up with Sebastian and Ethan.” 

  
  


The three bump their way over to the kitchen, moving their way past several dozens of people, where they saw the boys last. Ethan spots them right away, but Sebastian is distracted with something else—someone else. 

  
  


“Isn’t there a room you guys can squeeze yourselves in?” Maya remarks, but the couple next to her doesn’t seem to hear her, too absorbed in their own conversation. 

  
  


Hope notices that Lizzie’s whole friend group is in the kitchen, even Josie, and she spots Landon next to a bag of chips. She smiles at him, but doesn’t allow herself to create a conversation. 

  
  


Hope gets bored and pulls out her phone, but is met with a complaint from her friend Maya. She needs an excuse to leave so she puts her phone away in her pocket, asking, “Do you know where the bathroom is?” 

  
  


If she can’t use her phone here, she’ll sit in the bathroom with it. She’s thoroughly uninterested with the party and Netflix seems really appealing right now. 

  
  


Maya tells her where to go by pointing down a long hallway. Hope walks down the dimly lighted entrance, turning several knobs until she finds what she’s looking for. 

  
  


She’s about to close the door and lock it, when a hand stills her movement. When Hope’s met with a face, she grimaces.

  
  


“Not again,” she says, putting her hand to her forehead like she has a big headache. 

  
  


“Wait.” Josie moves in, opening the door fully and then closing it behind her. She turns around, meeting Hope’s eyes. 

  
  


“Don’t do this,” Hope winces, stepping away to where the shower curtain is. It’s hardly a big bathroom. She feels too close to the girl and there’s no escape, her only exit blocked. 

  
  


“Do what?” Josie questions, like she’s actually confused. 

  
  


“Try to talk to me,” Hope clues the girl in, gesturing between them. 

  
  


“Why?” 

  
  


“Yesterday you couldn’t be in the same room as me,” she mutters, feeling like she’s going to explode if she doesn’t get air or a breath away from the girl. She looks at the bathroom mirror, staring at her reflection, “But now...now I don't even know."

She sucks in a heavy breath. "What changed?” 

  
  


“I just wanted to apologize—”

  
  


“Where’s Penelope?” Hope draws, confronting the girl at last, ignoring any form of apology the girl can offer. Her words are a vast change of subject and the turnaround affects Josie visibly. 

  
  


“What?” Josie seems to shrink back further into the wall. 

  
  


“She isn’t here so I’m the replacement, right?” 

  
  


“No, of course not,” Josie says hurriedly but Hope continues with her outburst. 

  
  


“You can't try to have sex with someone that actually likes you?” Hope seethes, turning on the faucet to wash her hands. She feels so dirty, so _played_ with. 

  
“Stop, that’s not what I'm doing,” Josie sounds desperate, just trying to get Hope to hear her out. Josie even reaches out, pulling back a second later when she realizes she doesn’t know what she’s trying to hold onto. 

  
  


“Then what _are_ you doing?” 

  
  


“Uh,” Josie tries to find any possible explanation, “I-I needed to use the bathroom." 

Hope shoots her a look. "But I got distracted."

  
  


“Distracted with what?” Hope pokes, wanting to hear the words aloud. She’s unrelenting, finding pleasure in making Josie as vulnerable as she can. It’s the least the girl deserves. 

  
  


“Don’t.”

  
  


“No, please, enlighten me,” the shorter girl says, a little too amused, a little too wistful. 

  
  


“I can’t,” she sounds small and it makes Hope stop. Josie’s back is digging into the wall and Hope thinks the girl is about to make an indent in it. It’s so unfair how Josie suddenly wants to leave, to flee, when she had been the one to start this—to follow Hope in here. 

  
  


“‘Cause of Penelope?” Hope lunges, jumping to a conclusion. 

  
  


“I told you, we aren’t together,” Josie says for the hundredth time, and it still isn’t enough to make Hope believe it. It makes Hope upset and monster-like, causing her to become hysterical. 

"Everything else says otherwise," Hope states, feeling bitter. She's agitated and knows their isolation in the bathroom is the best time to see for herself if the girl feels the same. Even if she has to do it directly.

"She's just a, uh, distraction," Josie says, and she looks pointedly at Hope like it means something. 

  
  


“Oh, I see..." Hope leans away, her tone patronizing but surprise clear in her eyes. Maybe this sudden obsession with Josie Saltzman isn't one-sided. Maybe the girl that's been staring at her all night, maybe the girl that sent Landon in the opposite direction, the girl that's with her now—maybe she likes Hope, like how Hope likes her. Has all of this back and forth been for nothing? Hope can't accept that all their arguing was in vain. She becomes overwhelmed with the sudden urge to throw everything back in Josie's face. 

"When you’re with Penelope, you think of me, don't you?” Hope almost growls, making an assumption and inching her way closer to Josie. She's tired of the games. Her pride can't face this back and forth anymore. She just wants to know. The blue-eyed girl decides not to be the prey anymore, she forces the roles to reverse. “When you kiss her, do you not wish it's me? When you—” 

  
  


“You’re horrible,” Josie spits out, a certain anger taking the place of her agony. Hope thinks that maybe she’s gone too far and said too much—that maybe she had been wrong about everything—but the girl facing her looks as much in denial as she is. The confirmation of Josie's feelings slaps her across the face like a splash of cold water. It drips down her face and soaks her to the bone. Hope shivers, her words catching in her throat and then coming out all at once. 

  
  


“No, I want to know,” she almost shouts, but she is careful enough to make sure no one can hear her. The music is loud enough, anyhow. She scoffs, “Where’s Penelope?” 

  
  


“She’s sick,” Josie utters, finally complying. It makes Hope’s heart shatter. Is she just a rebound? Just someone to use when Penelope isn’t around? 

  
  


“Wow, behind her back. And _I'm_ horrible?” the girl flares darkly. 

  
  


The response sparks something in the brunette. 

  
  


“We’re. Not. Together,” Josie clenches her fist, gritting her teeth. Hope thinks she looks like an animal, very _much_ like an animal indeed. 

  
  


“So you just string along everyone then?” Hope looks actually curious, like her heart needs to know now—needs to find out how much more suffering she’ll have to go through. 

  
  


“Not everyone,” Josie says, trailing off. She chooses not to continue. 

  
  


“I feel bad for Penelope. I mean, I’d hate to be with someone who fucks around.” 

  
  


Hope doesn’t see the slap coming. She really doesn’t. She knows it’s well-deserved, she basically just slut-shamed the girl. She can barely feel the sting, her adrenaline too high. Her cheek blisters red, a reminiscence of the second before. 

  
  


Josie drops her hand, but doesn’t apologize. 

  
  


Hope tries not to seem affected by it, like she didn’t just get slapped. It doesn’t make her stop, it only propels her to continue, like she can’t get enough of distressing the girl, “Let me guess...Penelope has a slapping kink?” 

  
  


“You think you're funny,” the taller girl says. She raises her hand slightly and Hope thinks she’s about to get slapped again. She doesn’t, though. “But you’re jealous and you don’t know how to handle it. This isn’t how.” 

  
  


Hope laughs in her face. It wrings sharply throughout the room, hitting the walls darkly, drowning them with dull energy. It sounds like Josie is giving her a lesson, like she’s educating Hope about something, like she’s letting her know to make her life easier. 

  
  


“Oh, and slapping me is how?” Hope deflects, hoping Josie will see how hypocritical she’s being. It comes off lightly, perhaps trying to distract the both of them that Josie just called her jealous. 

  
  


It causes a blush to deepen across Josie’s neck and cheeks. Hope’s eyes involuntarily glance at Josie’s neck and it isn’t until now that Hope acknowledges what the girl is wearing. 

  
  


She’s wearing a light-colored dress and it contrasts against her skin magnificently. It’s short, and Hope can’t help it when her eyes flicker lower. Josie doesn’t seem to notice, too preoccupied with putting her hair up. 

  
  


Hope definitely can’t blame the girl, it’s hot as hell in the room. Hope is sure it was colder when they first came in. 

  
  


Josie doesn’t reply so Hope decides to go on, “Was you telling Landon to basically leave also how?” 

  
  


“Don’t make an example out of me,” the brunette talks and Hope likes this answer, because at least it reveals that she might also be jealous. 

  
  


Hope feels like mocking the girl. She chooses not to, not really wanting to get slapped again. The last one had just caught up with her and she wonders if her face is still red. She forgets that there’s a mirror right next to her, maybe in her daze of staring at Josie. 

  
  


“Or was that you just trying to make a fool out of yourself? Well, mission accomplished,” Hope snarks, smiling at her own joke. 

  
  


Josie doesn’t take it so kindly but is also aware of her own mistake, “I didn’t mean for that to happen.” Her smile lasts a second, but it allows Hope to see the white of her teeth and just how they contrast to the red of Josie’s lips. Hope feels herself pulling closer, a new kind of giddiness controlling her movement. 

  
  


She stops herself, looking down and acting like she’s examining the floor tiles. 

  
  


“What did you think would happen?” Hope’s solely curious. The girl is searching for a confession, anything just so she can do something about it. In this state, she thinks she can even get away with pressing her lips against the girl. She’s more sure than ever that Josie feels the same way. Why would they still be talking if Josie doesn't?

  
  


What is Josie waiting for? Hope consciously wonders why the girl hasn’t left yet. Their conversation seems like it’s reached the end. 

  
  


A warmness is emanating from the other side of the room—from Josie. It comforts Hope, even though she’s a foot away from the girl. The warmth feels like an invitation, but Hope still thinks she isn’t welcomed. 

  
  


Josie steps forward, a distressed expression across her face. Hope doesn’t bother to move back this time. Josie’s eyes are dark—her pupils blown noticeably for a second time—and she moves to talk. Hope swallows thickly and, as her throat bobs, an excitement crawls throughout her bones, sucking any density or anguish out of them. 

  
  


Yet, there’s also a sadness to her, like there’s a different way she’s wanted this to happen, under different circumstances, or in another lifetime where they weren’t meant to hate each other. Hope slowly thinks about her own dad. She also thinks about Josie’s dad. Should this be happening? 

  
  


Josie’s dad would kill her if he ever found out. Right? 

  
  


“Pretend it isn’t me,” Josie all but pants and Hope starts to feel _very_ light-headed. Her eyes move to Josie’s lips—another time—but this time they stay. 

  
  


“Hmm?” Hope mumbles, distracted with the alluring nature of Josie. She feels like she’s been seduced, like Josie’s planned out everything right to this very moment. 

  
  


“Right now...pretend it isn’t me,” Josie declares, forcing Hope to acknowledge it. Hope is still a little confused, her mind not allowing herself to think clearly. “You’re not you, and I’m not me.” 

  
  


Is she asking what Hope thinks she’s asking? Does she want Hope to forget this ever happened? 

  
  


Hope’s eyelids feel heavy and Hope doesn’t know how long she can last, the anticipation dipped in slices of forever, holding out on Hope. 

  
  


“Promise me,” the girl says and Hope wonders why she’s still talking. Is she that adamant about it? Does she really expect Hope to be able to forget? 

  
  


“Okay...I promise,” Hope nods. It comes out deep and rather weak, but it’s enough to satisfy the brunette. 

  
  


At the confirmation, Josie almost lunges at the girl, crashing their lips together. Hope instantly kisses her back, pulling the girl closer by the back of her neck. Their lips lock, eagerly and impatiently. Josie's full lips tear Hope's will apart, cutting it into halves, destroying it in quarters. 

  
  


Hope’s other hand moves to place a hold on Josie’s hip, who cants up in reaction to the touch. It drives Hope crazy and makes her even more dizzy. She never knew she’d be so desperate for a kiss, for a single touch. 

  
  


Josie’s hands move around Hope’s neck, one tangling itself in her hair, the other playing with Hope’s necklace. The kiss is rushed, like they know it’ll end soon—like they know they won’t be here forever. The shorter girl hums when Josie slips her tongue inside Hope’s mouth, forcefully and incessant. 

  
  


Josie’s still playing with Hope’s necklace and it’s driving the girl more crazy that she thought it would. Hope feels sensitive—too sensitive—and every touch seems to burn her, all in the right places. Josie tilts Hope’s head with her hand, attempting to get a better angle. 

  
  


Hope backs the brunette up into the wall and a whimper makes its way out of Josie’s mouth at the sudden action, the sudden movement causing their bodies to press up against each other. 

  
  


The girl can’t muster the self-control to keep her hands to herself and takes out Josie’s hair-tie, unraveling her ponytail, leaving the hair to curl down around her head. Hope gets selfish, wanting to enjoy the moment as much as she can. She knows that Josie will run back to Penelope the second they’re done, the second the party is over, the second Penelope stops being _sick_. 

  
  


Hope understands. It’s a secret she’s willing to keep. 

  
  


The auburn-headed girl holds a groan in when Josie grips her fingers into the back of her shoulder, her nails making an indent on the junction between her collarbone and jawline. Hope gasps at the sudden pain, but it only makes Josie more reactive, it only makes her press more—like it’s some erotic form of payback. 

  
  


Josie’s nails continue to scratch Hope, they’re everywhere, and Hope starts to feel herself weaken, leaning against Josie as an insurance policy. It’d be embarrassing if she were to fall. Over a kiss? Hope thinks the _hell_ not. 

  
  


After another moment of Josie probing Hope further, like she’s trying to devour the girl, Hope’s roommate steps back. Josie sighs, almost gasping for air. Hope’s eyes remain closed, deepening her breath, asking her lungs to forgive her for being so greedy.

  
  


Hope feels a certain desire hit her, a certain feeling falls to the pit of her stomach, heightening her senses. She moves to kiss Josie again but the girl turns her head away and Hope feels rejection like never before. 

  
  


“I h-have to go, Lizzie’s probably wondering where I am,” Josie looks around the room, trying to distract herself so she’ll be able to slip away, perhaps trying to make it easier on herself to be able to pull back. Perhaps feeling as upset as Hope does. 

  
  


Hope knows not to hold on, “O-okay.” 

  
  


Josie fixes herself in the mirror and opens the door, not even allowing for the small courtesy of looking back. Hope almost tries to pull her back in, she almost grabs the girl by the arm. But she remembers the promise. 

It isn't her place.

  
  


And just like that, Josie's gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my "people longing for each other" jane austen impression but the modern version LOL


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to everyone for sticking with this story. i know it's crazy and a little unbelievable, but i think that's why i'm having so much fun with it. something that happened at my work also inspired me...so

Hope waits a few moments to collect herself but to also make sure people don’t see her come out right after the brunette. She paces back and forth, even sitting down on the toilet cover to distract herself from what had just happened. 

  
  


She toys with her necklace, trying to cool herself down. It’s hot—from when Josie had held on to it, from when Josie had melted it with her touch—and Hope blinks, trying to forget. 

  
  


She had promised. 

  
  


It’s better not to dwell on it. Not when Hope knows Josie will easily dismiss everything—dismiss her. 

  
  


Hope waits an effective five minutes and opens the door, sneaking out much like she’s just buried a dead body. She makes her way back to the kitchen, where she knows her friends are. 

  
  


The lights in the kitchen are bright and Hope notices Josie right away. The brunette is sitting on top of the counter, laughing with Rafael and Landon about something. 

  
  


The girl really couldn’t have gone somewhere else?

  
  


It seems as though Josie notices her because they lock eyes and the taller girl’s eyes almost shoot out of her skull, in fear or alarm. Hope gets self-conscious. Does she have something on her face? 

  
  


Hope can’t think much about it because Maya comes crashing into her. What she does acknowledge, however, is how Josie turns away from her, moving to the other side of the kitchen, almost hiding. 

  
  


“Hey, where’ve you been?” Maya faces her and then audibly gasps, “What the hell is on your face?!” 

  
  


Maya just about shouts the words and soon everyone’s eyes are on Hope as Maya garners the attention of just about everyone in Hope’s near radius. 

  
  


Hope swallows, harshly. What could possibly be on her face? 

  
  


_Oh_. 

  
  


Josie’s lipstick. Josie’s _very_ red lipstick. 

  
  


“What do you mean?” the shorter girl says and her voice cracks and raises noticeably. Hope starts to reprimand herself because she really couldn’t have looked at the mirror earlier?

  
  


She thought she did. But the mark on her face says otherwise. She _really_ didn’t notice it. 

  
  


Maya grabs her friend, pulling them to the sink. She takes a towel and smudges it against Hope’s face harshly. It elicits something out of the girl, “Hey! My face...you’re gonna give me acne...Ow!” Hope can’t help but yelp because her face has been clear for a week now and this nasty treatment will surely ruin her streak. 

  
  


“Why isn’t it coming off?” Maya grunts, smearing the towel harsher, obliterating any chance that Hope _won’t_ develop acne in the morning. 

  
  


Sebastian seems to join the fun, pulling Lizzie along with him, “Wow, who did that?” 

  
  


_Oh god no_. 

  
  


He’s smiling while he says it and Lizzie seems to frown in realization, “Wait, I gave someone that shade of lipstick earlier.” Lizzie thinks about it a little longer and then almost screeches in recognition, “No fucking way—” 

  
  


“It was me!” Sam yelps, interrupting the girl before anyone else can reach the same conclusion. It doesn’t help that Josie, behind Sam, is conspicuously backing up, trying to smudge off any remnants of her own makeup. Could the girl be any less obvious? 

  
  


Hope furrows her eyebrows in confusion—acting quite stupid—but then sees that her best friend is trying to help her, so she nods her head, agreeing. “Yes! It was Sam.” 

  
  


Hope tries not to gag while saying the words because she really can’t imagine or picture herself kissing one of her best friends. 

  
  


Maya tries to rat the two of them out, nonetheless. 

  
  


“You’re not even wearing any lipstick—”

  
  


“Hope’s wearing it all, aren’t you, Hope?” Sam gestures, trying to get Hope to play along. She even winks.This _is_ for Hope, anyways.

  
  


Hope nods, unable to speak. It isn’t very convincing. 

  
  


“My ass. You guys would never kiss each other,” Maya states, feeling left out or even jealous that Hope wouldn’t tell her herself. Hope starts to grow angry because her friend can’t seem to take the hint, especially in front of Lizzie, who’s still suspicious. Hope even tries to nudge the girl but Maya takes it as a shove. 

  
  


It doesn’t aid the situation, at all, when Ethan comes over, looking hurt and confused, “You guys kissed?” It makes Hope pause and think because he seems a little more hurt than a normal friend would be. She even thinks he seems a little jealous. Why would he be? 

  
  


“Sam if that’s your lipstick, prove it,” Maya says, and Hope wants to punch both siblings at once. Maya has a cunning look in her eye and Hope has the slight impression that Maya _knows_ that it wasn’t Sam. What is the girl doing? 

  
  


There’s a slight smirk on her face and Maya looks towards the corner—where Josie is—and her smirk seems to stretch farther, running the length of a mile, jumping over the width of a canal. 

  
  


Hope knows exactly what Maya’s playing at. 

  
  


She shakes her head. 

  
  


_Don’t do this_. 

  
  


The words are silent and are only told by the look in Hope’s eyes. Maya, however, seems to be unrelenting as she glances between the pair, shrugging nonchalantly, and awaiting any movement from the two. 

  
  


Is she really about to kiss her best friend? 

  
  


Hope decides in the moment that she’ll get Maya back for this three-fold. 

  
  


Sam seems to come closer and Hope gulps. Maybe she can get away with faking a seizure? 

  
  


She looks around the room—looks at what she can see without turning her head. She catches a look on Landon’s face and feels slightly bad about the sorrow in it. What attracts her attention more, what seizes it and holds it hostage, is Josie. 

  
  


Her face is expressionless; Hope can’t decipher it if she tried. There’s no emotion, no obvious sensibility. Her cold, emotionless complexion creates a switch in Hope’s actions. It turns off any hesitation, it murders the choice of _not_ kissing her best friend. 

  
  


Maybe this will make Josie learn, maybe this will make Josie _feel_. 

  
  


Half of Hope thinks that Josie wouldn’t care anyways, that this is part of hiding it—their kiss—from everybody; that this is part of their promise. 

  
  


Sam and Hope meet rather hesitantly, their kiss is slow like a punctual greeting. It’s an acknowledgement without the _how are you_ , the goodbye without the _have a good day_. 

  
  


It ends after ten seconds and it wasn’t as bad as Hope though it’d be. _Hell_ , they were pretty good actresses. 

  
  


“Was that enough for you?” Hope breathes, eyeing Maya. 

  
  


“More than enough.” 

  
  


Hope can’t seem to help herself and she glimpses to the corner of the kitchen where Josie was previously.

  
  


Hope’s heart shrinks. 

  
  


No one’s there. 

  
  


-

  
  


Hope calls an emergency friend meeting in the car. She drags Sebastian out of the house before he can complain and her three other friends follow her without resentment. 

  
  


“Friend meetings are for emergencies only,” Sebastian spits, irritated to be pulled away from the blonde Saltzman. 

  
  


“I’m sorry, is having sex with Lizzie more important that me, your _best_ friend?” Hope spells, acting hurt. She closes the door behind them and Maya turns the car on for the air conditioning. 

  
  


“Yes.” 

  
  


“Whatever...okay, so first of all, Sam and I are,” the auburn-headed girl gags, “...definitely not doing what you guys think we are.” It’s rude, but Sam doesn’t seem to take much offense to it, most definitely feeling the same way. 

  
  


“Then what was that for?” Ethan says, still upset, but Hope basically sees the relief climb off his shoulders. Sam spares him a confused glance and Hope narrows her eyes at the two of them. 

  
  


“Uh…”

  
  


_Shit_. 

  
  


Hope hadn’t thought that far yet. 

  
  


“Let’s just say I kissed someone that Lizzie might or might not know, and, it’s important that she doesn’t find out,” Hope explains, trying to be as vague as possible. 

  
  


“Was it—” Sebastian tries, but Hope doesn’t let him. 

  
  


“Don’t say it,” Hope snaps, with a smile on her face, because she knows it’s too easy to think about just who Lizzie might know, too easy to conclude that it was Josie. 

  
  


Sebastian, Sam, and Ethan share a grin, giving Hope to look at Maya for a change. 

  
  


“You bitch, don’t think for a second that you’re safe,” Hope says, threatening the girl. Maya’s the only friend who doesn’t do a double-take, who isn’t scared of a threat by the Mikaelson heiress. 

  
  


“What did I do?” Maya bats her eyes innocently, and the whole car all but shakes in laughter. 

  
  


“Just for the shit you pulled, I get to stay at your place tonight,” Hope invites herself, not in the best mood to go back to her dorm. 

  
  


“What? Can’t face your roommate after you just—”

  
  


“You owe us,” Sam expresses, emphasizing all the words. She even flares her nose and Hope wants to laugh at how _not_ scary she is. 

  
  


Ethan and Sebastian leave, not really caring for girl drama, and the trio are left in the car. 

  
  


They talk for a few more minutes as Hope fills the pair in on what had happened—what went down in the bathroom. 

  
  


“Why’d you save me, Sam?” Hope wonders, curious enough to ask it. 

  
  


“I saw you two,” Sam simply says and the shorter girl’s face lights up in embarrassment. 

  
  


“What?” 

  
  


“You went into the bathroom and Saltzman followed you, right?” Sam continues, just about re-enacting it. Hope seems surprised, almost illusive. Sam glares at her, “Or was I imagining it?” 

  
  


Hope shakes her head, hiding her face. 

  
  


“Please tell me you video-taped so I can see!” Maya has the audacity to say, throwing her hands up in what looks like a prayer. Hope’s friends are fools first, if anything.

  
  


“They closed the door, Maya. What was I supposed to do? Record the wall?” Sam has a confused look on her face, wondering how dim her friend could really be. 

  
  


“Whatever,” Maya mouths, flipping off her friend before saying, “I’m gonna go back.”

  
  


-

  
  


Hope ends up staying at Maya’s dorm for Friday night and through Saturday. Maya’s roommate, Penelope, doesn’t seem to care as she’s also been gone. Hope comes to the conclusion that she’s probably off with Josie—once again—after she’s fully recovered from her food poisoning episode. 

  
  


Hope feels miserable all-day, imagining them together—breathing the same air, paying each other attention. It’s an illness she can’t help herself from developing, a sickness she can’t help from becoming terminal. 

  
  


In some sort of fantasy, she pictures Josie feeling the same way. Perhaps the girl also falls prisoner to the same disease. Perhaps they’re sick together. 

  
  


The time Sunday rolls around, Hope knows she already has, considerably, annoyed Maya to the point where they’re in a shouting match over how Hope is too panicky to go back to her room—to have to see Josie. 

  
  


“Bro, just go back, you’re such a pussy!” 

  
  


“You know I hate that word,” Hope complains and then mutters, “But really...stop don’t do this to me.” She sounds like a desperate child, holding out for the last of mother’s hugs. It’s laughable, actually.

  
  


“God, you couldn’t confront something even if it hit you in the face,” she mumbles and Hope’s sure it’s something she’s heard before. 

  
  


“Just one more night?” Hope asks, pulling at the girl’s sheets on her bed. 

  
  


“You’re so clingy,” Maya says, packing Hope’s things for her. “I haven’t seen you like this, well, ever.” 

  
  


“I don’t know,” Hope semi-pouts, and she feels like she’s never been so emotional before. What was Josie _doing_ to her? 

  
  


This isn’t Hope. The girl feels like she’s had this thought before. But now, it’s only attached itself even more to her neurons, moving like a high-speed train. She can’t get out even if she tried. 

  
  


“You just need to snap out of it,” Maya remarks, trying to extend some common sense to her friend. The girl stretches and her eyes glue to her friend. 

  
  


“You’re right. I’m being weird,” Hope groans, removing herself from the bed. Thinking all these things and feeling all these things are weird. That’s it. She stands up, trying to change her mood, “Sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” The words feel better than anything else she’s said lately and Hope feels some heaviness pull off of her. 

  
  


Hope shakes her head, trying to shake off all of her useless and disappointing feelings. It isn’t needed.

  
  


She’s only just realized how hard feelings are to deal with. It’s almost patronizing. She can’t help that she’s stuck with seeing Josie’s emotionless face—the last thing she’s seen of the girl. 

  
  


She packs up her things—most of Maya’s borrowed clothes—and leaves, heading towards her dorm. 

  
  


Hope shoves open her door, intent on giving Josie a piece of her mind after days of silence, but it seems that the taller girl has other plans. 

  
  


“Oh,” Hope breathes, feeling awfully lightheaded. Her eyes darken as she catches a glimpse of Josie and Penelope snuggled up together on the former’s bed, watching a movie on her laptop. 

  
  


“Hey, Hope,” Penelope greets in good nature, but Hope walks right past her without uttering a single word back. She doesn’t even spare either of them a glance, her eyes trained on the bathroom door as she collects her clothes and a towel. 

  
  


It’s best not to look at Josie. She might crumble completely if her eyes linger a moment too long, her heart might stop beating completely if she allows it to pound for just a second longer. 

  
  


The awful part inside of Hope wants to brag to Penelope about how she’s _also_ kissed Josie, how Josie wants Hope and not Penelope—never Penelope, surely, right?—but the words evade her the longer she holds the idea in her mind. 

  
  


What happened to them not being serious? Is it normal, for Josie, to constantly lie to Hope’s face like this? Does she even feel a second of remorse? Can she not feel the way Hope’s chest is screaming for mercy? Can she—

  
  


“Can she hear us?” 

  
  


Hope turns on the water before she can make out Josie’s response. 

  
  


The auburn-headed girl ends up taking all the hot water, but to be fair, it got cold after two minutes. 

  
  


She puts on her clothes and waits a few minutes before she steps outside, hoping that Penelope is gone. She isn’t. 

  
  


Hope opens the door, walking straight towards her bed. She doesn’t afford a second glimpse at the two as she hops on her bed, turning away from the pair to face the wall. 

  
  


She falls asleep within seconds, an exhaustion, she’s never quite felt before, consuming her. She learns that it’s easier to breathe if she chooses to ignore the two, chooses not to _see_ them. Ignorance bodes well with her, it’s deaf and calming. It’s a comfort, it hugs her from behind, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, coaxing her to sleep. 

  
  


-

  
  


A week passes by of utter silence between the pair. 

  
  


Hope’s second week of classes aren’t that terrible and the girl tries to find enjoyment in the lectures. But much to her disapproval, her economics class meets three times that week. 

  
  


Hope hates how she can’t stop staring at Josie and the taller girl, every so often, looks behind her shoulder like she knows. She absolutely despises herself for deciding to sit so far from the girl. Hope can’t even change her seat or move somewhere else without looking like a creep. 

  
  


She also hates how Josie seems so happy while Hope is stuck with just _looking_ at the girl for entertainment. Josie is smiling whenever Hope sees her and it feels like a bullet to the brain. She wonders if Josie already forgot about the kiss, if she had been able to remove the memory so easily from her brain. 

  
  


She even more so hates how whenever she looks at Josie, she never finds the girl looking her way. Hope decides what she might hate further is how when Josie finally does pay her attention, her eyes don’t go away. They stick on Hope like a branding iron—white-hot and burning. 

  
  


It confuses Hope more than ever, yet she can’t even mention it for fear of Josie wanting to _pretend_ again. 

  
  


The ignorance she had once held on to, once depended upon, has left her, leaving her to face her emotions. 

  
  


Something else that causes Hope to take pause is her college professor. He continues to wear this puzzling look on his face, like he’s trying to communicate something to her by just looking at her, like he’s supposed to be this familiar face and she’s supposed to acknowledge it. 

  
  


So, yeah, Economics sucks now. 

  
  


-

  
  


It’s Friday evening, following Hope’s last class for the day, when Josie comes darting through the door, a panicked look on her face. Hope is at her desk, reading through a textbook, when it happens. 

  
  


“You need to leave, now!” The girl blurts, without any explanation whatsoever. She’s moving throughout the room, tidying it up, while simultaneously looking the most anxious that Hope’s ever seen of the girl. 

  
  


“We haven’t talked for a week, and now you want to kick me out? I don’t think so…” Hope rolls her eyes, turning her attention back towards her textbook, trying to distract herself from how fast her heart is pounding. Is Penelope coming over again? For another booty call? Does Josie think that she can just kick Hope out of her own room whenever? Has she given the girl that much power? 

  
  


Well, It’s not Hope’s fault that her thoughts can’t stop running a mile a minute. 

  
  


“My father is coming,” Josie deadpans, stopping all her movement to look Hope thoroughly in the eye, stepping up closer to the girl. Hope momentarily remembers their agreement—remembers Josie’s request. 

  
  


“Oh...oh, shit.” In a second, Hope is up and off of her chair. She finds a bag, tossing a bunch of stuff in it. What would only add to her, already bad week, is seeing Alaric. No way. 

  
  


“My god, now I have to call my work and cancel…” Josie starts rambling on and Hope only catches a part of what she’s saying. The girl still looks frantic and Hope can make out the anxiety written all over her face.

  
  


“Your father doesn’t know you’re working?” Hope inclines, pausing to truly glance at her roommate. The auburn-headed girl hasn’t been this close to her in a week. 

  
  


“I’ll tell you later,” she says and then slightly shoves Hope, “Get out, hurry!”

  
  


“Wait,” Hope stops right when she’s at the door, “When can I come back?” 

  
  


“Just go to Maya’s and I’ll text Penelope to let you know,” Josie says, scratching her head like she has a headache. God, Hope’s so whipped. 

  
  


“Alright,” Hope deflates at the mention of Penelope, but nods her head, feeling dragged down and pessimistic all over again. 

  
  


“Hey, Hope?” Josie adds as Hope’s hand falls to the knob of the door. 

  
  


“Yeah?” Hope turns back, tilting her head up, yearning to hear more of the girl. 

  
  


A silence falls between them. 

  
  


Then:

  
  


“Thanks,” Josie voices and Hope knows it isn’t just for leaving. It’s for the past week, it’s for last Friday night, it’s for the commitment, it’s for forgetting—it’s for _pretending_ like nothing’s happened between them. 

  
  


Hope stretches a small smile, closing the door and almost sprinting to Maya’s. She can’t be too safe, Alaric might already be in the parking lot. 

  
  


-

  
  


It’s about three hours later when Hope has finished dealing with Maya’s and Penelope’s irritating-ass music and more than rambunctious conversation. How can two girls have _that_ much energy?

  
  


The pair have finally calmed down and now the three are all laying down on the beds, Hope specifically watching some TV show on her Hulu account. 

  
  


“Oh Hope, Josie texted me,” Penelope speaks up, letting Hope know that she’ll be able to go back to her dorm. 

  
  


“Thank you,” Hope says, picking her bag up from where it’s lying on the floor. She hugs Maya and only gives Penelope a side-glance—it’s the best image of good will and respect Hope can manage. 

  
  


She arrives back to her dorm, looking around suspiciously, checking for any glimpse of Alaric Saltzman to make sure the coast is clear. 

  
  


Hope comes in, opening the door slowly, and finds Josie on her bed. Her face is slightly wet and her eyes and cheeks are alike: puffy, almost as if she’s just been crying. However, there are no remnants of tears or anything that might place the girl in that sorrowful state. It’s like she had just previously wiped her face or splashed water over herself.

  
  


Hope backs away and blinks, surprised. 

  
  


Upon seeing Hope, Josie only swings her legs over her bed and turns away, rummaging through the drawers of the dresser. The motion causes Hope to remember that Josie still has her hoodie.

  
  


“What are you looking for?” Hope says softly. She then throws her bag on top of her bed, finding any excuse to just do _something_. The small thud of her bag hitting her sheets resounds loudly in the quiet room. She thinks that she feels very awkward just standing here. 

  
  


“I h-have to take a shower,” Josie mumbles a second later, still not facing Hope. 

  
  


“Great! You can take one after me,” Hope sort of jokes, joining Josie next to the dresser. The words are light and playful and help to dissuade Josie’s obvious mood. 

  
  


“No way. You never leave me any hot water,” Josie finally moves to meet the girl, managing to narrow her eyes at Hope. 

  
  


“It’s not my fault you take your showers so late,” Hope grins, “The hot water is basically nonexistent in our building after seven, you know that.”

  
  


“You act like I have a choice.” Josie puffs out a breath, using the knob of the drawer to steadily stand up. She closes the drawer. “My job literally gives me no other option but to come home late.” 

  
  


“Do you talk about anything but your job?” Hope asks, teasing. There’s a burning smile on her face, like the sun is giving her the permission to beam its rays. 

  
  


“Shut up,” Josie laughs, walking back to her bed and folding her laundry. She hangs up a shirt, “You’re the one bringing it up all the time.” There’s a warm and hospitable air around them, encasing their movement and moving to mold their sentences. Hope partly acknowledges that something must have happened before she walked in or else Josie’s face wouldn’t be so...red. 

  
  


“It’s just unbelievable, that’s all.” 

  
  


“Says almost everyone I know,” the taller girl states, but she isn’t exactly annoyed. There’s more to it. “Rich people and their prejudices,” she murmurs, but Hope hears it all too clearly. She gets a little offended, but is more interested than insulted. Josie says it like she isn’t part of the term, isn’t part of the _rich_ people. 

  
  


“Then educate me,” Hope says as she sits back onto her bed, feeling more capable of conversation. She repeats, “I mean, tell me, why do you really have a job?” 

  
  


“I told you this already.” 

  
  


“No, you didn’t. You deflected from it,” Hope tells her, playing with her hands in her lap. 

  
  


“Why is this so important to you?” Josie stops in her tracks, feeling like she’s being interrogated once again. 

  
  


“I don’t know,” Hope whispers but then raises her voice. “It just makes me curious.” 

  
  


“You sound like my father,” Josie speaks and the shorter girl inwardly cringes. 

  
  


“What?” Hope asks, a little exasperated. She toys with the comforter of her bed. 

  
  


“My dad doesn’t approve of my job. He says that working at a coffee shop is demeaning, that it’s beneath me,” Josie admits, wearing the same exact look as when Hope first walked in earlier. Hope winces, a new level of uncomfortable mounting her shoulders.

  
  


“How does that sound like me? I didn’t say that,” Hope states, ceaselessly looking Josie in the eye. It’s difficult and vulnerable, but Hope can’t bother _not_ to. 

  
  


“But you were thinking it,” Josie spits, now almost angered. “Weren’t you?”

  
  


Hope’s next reply doesn’t help to calm Josie down, doesn’t help Hope in her fight to prove she isn’t what Josie thinks she is—a stereotypical, privileged person, who grew up around money. “Well...kind of.” 

  
  


Josie scoffs, moving closer towards the shorter girl. She sounds disappointed, “I can’t believe I thought—I thought you were...” 

  
  


Josie pauses, the words at the tip of her tongue, but she seems to think better of them. Hope becomes nostalgic for what could have been. 

  
  


“Nevermind, it really doesn’t matter,” the brunette decides, her eyes flitting up and away distractedly. She seems to curl in on herself, disappointment so, so clear in her eyes and in her face and in her entire fucking body, and Hope feels her chest cave in. 

  
  


“What?” Hope’s eyes go wide with false surprise. She lowers her voice dramatically, suddenly wanting Josie to understand how it feels to have one’s heart convulse so extremely that they get the awful feeling their rib cage will completely collapse. “You thought I was different? Special? Better?” She punctuates each word with a step closer to Josie. 

  
  


Soon enough, she’s within a few feet of her. 

  
  


“Stop.” Josie shakes her head, but the action is futile and does not shield her from Hope’s next words. 

  
  


“No, really. What’s so great about a job that pays minimum wage at best? You can’t honestly say you enjoy it, can you? No.” Her tone becomes patronizing, unforgiving. A sneer curls at her lips. “I bet it’s so you can feel better about yourself. Part of the working class, am I right?” She raises her eyebrows with a mean streak. 

  
  


“Can you even hear yourself speak right now?’” Josie yells, taken aback. Her words are clipped and incredulous. “You sound ridiculous. Ignorant.” 

  
  


“Do you have any idea what it’s like for people that have to work for every cent?” she continues in a fury, her eyes lighting up like flames. Hope leans back, burning. 

  
  


“Oh, so you thought you’d have yourself a trial run?” Hope smirks nastily, a tongue sneaking out to wet dry, aching lips. Josie’s eyes track the motion, before they shoot away like ice. It almost melts the fire raging in Hope’s veins. Almost. “Try it out for yourself? Walk a mile in someone else’s shoes?” 

  
  


“And you thought being rich would be better? Look at you,” the taller girl seethes, her eyes tracing Hope’s side of the room. She curls a corner of her lips in derision, a false, sweet smile. “Your two boxes and your empty wall? Wow, what a life.” 

  
  


Across from her, Josie’s crowded wall—lined with polaroids and fun photographs filled with friends and family—mocks her relentlessly. Although their walls are contrasting—too contrasting—she remembers how they both come from wealthy families, wealthy backgrounds. 

  
  


“You act like we’re different but, w-we’re the same,” Hope says, and she definitely isn’t talking about Josie’s wall. “You and I.” 

  
  


“Please, I’d jump off a bridge before money could _ever_ define me,” Josie bristles, feeling uneasy that anyone would ever compare her _to_ so, feeling humiliated to be compared _as_ so. 

  
  


“So, what? You think this will help you get back at your father?” Hope says, somehow still unable to understand that Josie’s job isn’t about anything but Josie. She can’t seem to comprehend how Josie wants this, that Josie likes her work. “Newsflash: you’re majoring in business. He already won.” 

  
  


Again, Josie shakes her head. “I love my job, this isn’t about him.” 

  
  


Hope gives her a disbelieving look, which only causes the brunette to roll her eyes. “You don’t get it.” 

  
  


Hope boils underneath her dismissive tone. She tries her best to keep her anger in check. She meets Josie’s eyes with a searching look on her own. “Well, tell me something that’d make me understand.” 

  
  


“There’s more to a minimum wage job than the job,” the taller girl explains, as if it’s the easiest thing to comprehend in the world. Hope can’t understand how nagging customers and the bitter stench of coffee could be appealing in any way. “You just can’t see it. You’re too stuck on the idea that lower class jobs are just that—lower.” 

  
  


Momentarily, Hope thinks about how Josie is seemingly taking so much time to get through to her—to teach her. 

  
  


“They are. Is being a cashier really so fun?” Hope says, slowly, almost making fun of the girl. It’s near a taunt. 

  
  


The taller girl winces at that, feeling utterly unnerved that Hope would suggest that sort of thing, that cashiers and other workers have no place. Josie rubs at her neck, fully exasperated. She’s unleashed an animal—Hope. She’s glancing between Hope and the floor and doesn’t speak for a full ten seconds. Josie noticeably swallows. “Oh, god. You’re aporophobic.” 

  
  


“I’m what now?” 

  
  


Josie gags, feeling absolutely sick to her stomach. “It’s the fear of poor people. Like homophobia, but with poor people.” 

  
  


“I’m not aproag—” Hope stops herself when she messes up, when she realizes she can’t pronounce it. “I’m not anything.” 

  
  


The brunette ignores her, waving a hand in front of her face as if to quell her nausea. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” 

  
  


She even steps closer to the bathroom, before Hope stops her. “Come on, I wasn’t even completely serious.” 

  
  


“You’re only saying that because...God, now I can’t even look at you,” Josie throws a side-glance at the girl, upset that Hope could be so below her expectations. 

  
  


“Forgive me,” Hope whispers, feeling uncomfortable with the situation. She regrets everything she’s said in the past few minutes—she feels like maybe her father had possessed her or something. How could she have allowed such awful words to escape her? Is this really who she is? Is this really what she thinks? 

  
  


Josie bows her head down, anxious and defeated. She still tries to find the good in Hope. Her gaze turns pleading. “Come to my work tomorrow.”

  
  


“Why?” Hope wonders, much too surprised, but she knows she’ll go wherever Josie asks her to—do whatever Josie asks her of. 

  
  


“Just come,” Josie almost urges. 

  
  


“You want me to watch you the whole day?”

  
  


Josie finally turns away, looking exhausted from their conversation. 

  
  


“Yeah, just maybe you’ll learn something.” 


	14. Chapter 14

Hope wakes up to a loud, pattering sound. It urges her out of sleep and she groans, “What the hell?” She can barely open her eyes and there’s a blinding light in the room when she finally gets one eyelid to open. There’s a lot of light in the room. Too much light. 

  
  


“Wake up, you idiot,” Josie says beside her, standing over the auburn-haired girl’s bed. She doesn’t have her pajamas on anymore and is fully clothed with her work attire. 

  
  


“What time is it?” Hope looks around the room, searching for her phone, or any possible measure that will tell her the time. It’s incredibly bright, if that’s a hint. 

  
  


“Five-thirty,” Josie mutters, still standing over the girl with her arms crossed. She’s staring at the girl, and Hope decides to hide under her covers—the morning look does not fare well with her.

  
  


“Why are you banging two bottles of lotion together?” The sound is still noisy and it fills up Hope’s ears horribly. Was there really no other way to wake the girl up? Why does Josie have two big bottles of lotion?

  
  


“I don’t have any pots or pans,” Josie explains, pulling Hope’s bed comforter off of her. 

  
  


“I wonder why,” Hope spells sarcastically, alluding to the fact that they don’t have a kitchen. They don’t have much of anything here. Hope’s not going to be spoiled enough to complain about it, however. “Why are you waking me up so early?” 

  
  


“Work starts at six. Hurry up. I’m being nice,” the brown-eyed girl pouts, walking back and forth. Hope still hasn’t adjusted to the light. She’s turned face down, unable to hide as her covers are, mercilessly, taken from her. 

  
  


“You’re being nice?” Hope asks, mocking her roommate. She is unable to see any generosity in the girl at the moment. Hope really doesn’t like to be woken up. 

  
  


“I was gonna wake you up at five…” the taller girl says, shrugging her shoulders, like she can take back the time and wake Hope up all over again. Like she has the power to do it. She says it with a courteous tone, too, as if it’s coming from the kindness of her heart. 

  
  


“I didn’t agree to this,” Hope glances up at the girl, wiping at her eyes. Josie never told her that she’d have to get up so early for this work experiment thing. She stares, hoping it’ll melt Josie down, hoping she’ll let her sleep for five more minutes. 

  
  


“I don’t care. Fucking get up,” Josie curses and it causes Hope to sit up in a heartbeat. She’s never really heard the girl curse before and if Josie’s even a bit angry today, Hope knows she’ll get absolutely eaten alive. She already majorly messed up yesterday. 

  
  


“Fine, fine. God, why is your shop opened up so early?” Hope asks, somewhat stupidly. She regrets it the second it comes out.

  
  


“It’s a coffee shop,” Josie deadpans. “You know. Coffee. That people drink in the morning.” She emphasizes all of her words, declaring Hope’s denseness with each phrase. It’s annoying how pleased she looks. 

  
  


Hope runs over to the dresser, searching for an outfit to wear. She grabs a pair of folded black leggings and a light-grey university t-shirt. She hurriedly puts them on and sort of forgets Josie’s in the room. 

  
  


It’s way _too_ early for Hope to function correctly. She doesn’t remember waking up this early since high-school when she had zero periods and other extracurriculars.

  
  


“Oh my god, what are you doing?!” Josie yelps, covering her eyes. She turns around almost immediately. 

  
  


Hope even has the decency to act confused, “What are you talking about—Oh.” With Josie turned away, she puts her clothes on faster, incapable of even scooting over to the bathroom. _That’s_ how early it is.

  
  


Josie clears her throat, waiting for a sign to turn around. Hope gives her one, “You’re good.” She almost smirks, but remembers herself. This could be some form of sexual harassment and she knows Josie will try to get her for anything. They still aren’t on the best of terms, not even with the implicit promise of their kiss. A single thought still bombards Hope to this very moment—she wants to do it again. She wonders if Josie also wants to. 

  
  


On the car ride over, Josie gives Hope a list of rules. An actual, handwritten list of rules. The girl even bothers, much to Hope’s embarrassment, to explain them, “Okay so the first rule is basically no pulling anything.”

  
  


“I’m not gonna do anything,” Hope mumbles, feeling like a child for what feels like the fifth time that month. At Josie’s incredulous look she continues, “I swear! I’ll be good.” 

  
  


“The second rule is just not to—”

  
  


“You don’t have to explain everything,” Hope draws, closing the air-conditioning vents near her. It’s too cold in the car. In Josie’s car. “I’m surprised you let me sit in the passenger seat.” 

  
  


“I was gonna make you sit in the trunk but I decided against it,” Josie smiles slightly at one corner of her mouth. “Last minute decision, you know?” Josie’s smile is alluring. It seems as though Josie’s having fun poking at Hope, joking with her, and it’s all-too attractive to Hope’s eyes. She can’t stop looking but after a second realizes it’s weird and turns away.

  
  


“I bet,” Hope pauses, suspicious of Josie’s kind behavior. “Why are you being so nice today?” 

  
  


“This is nice for you?” Josie furrows her eyebrows, but doesn’t look at the girl. She’s too busy driving. “Wow, such low expectations.” 

  
  


Hope chuckles, looking off to the window, “No, I just mean, why are you doing this?” 

  
  


_Why am I going with you?_

  
  


They come to a red light. Josie’s eyes narrow at the girl next to her, “I-I don’t know.” There’s a strange look to her face, like she can’t come up with any real answer, like there’s too much to say—or nothing to say all at once. It’s not very helpful.

  
  


“Well, if you’re trying to change me or better me, don’t expect anything.” Their eyes meet and Hope gulps, trying not to feel so light-headed. She hates how she always feels around the girl, like the air around them is too much or not enough. Josie’s eyebrows raise slightly, as if she expected the response to come out of Hope’s mouth. Like she knows but it doesn’t matter—like her mind is already made up, stubborn in its only ability. 

  
  


Her roommate nods, “I don’t expect much of anything from you.” It sounds cruel but tolerant at the same time. It’s even generous, a piece of information that’ll help Hope realize Josie’s true motive. Hope’s heart drops to her feet, a fall so crushing she feels it in her head when the damage was only done to her toes. 

  
  


A car honks its horn at them from behind: the light has changed. 

  
  


-

  
  


They pull up to the parking lot of the shopping center and Hope gets out of the car, “Will your coworkers think it’s weird that I’m in there all day?” The blue-eyed girl gestures to the store.

  
  


“You have your homework with you right?” Josie asks and the shorter girl nods. “You’re fine, then. You can even order throughout the day.” Hope’s roommate closes the car door and locks it. She glances at the time and then remarks, “I think you can afford it.” 

  
  


Hope rolls her eyes, following the girl. “So I’m seriously supposed to watch you the whole day?” 

  
  


The brown-haired girl nods, slowing her walking pace. Hope catches up with her and continues, a joke falling on her tongue, “Is this some weird plan of yours to get me to fall in—”

  
  


“Stop,” Josie puffs and then turns to face the girl. “Starting now I don’t know you.” There’s a playful expression on her face, but at the same time she’s serious.

  
  


“You don’t _what_?” Hope frowns, misunderstanding her. She hugs her school bag. 

  
  


“Bye, stranger!” Josie calls out, leaving the girl behind her, opening the door and entering. Hope waits a few moments outside until it’s actually six o’clock. She then enters when the shop’s sign lights up. The blue-eyed girl orders an iced coffee from another cashier—not Josie. 

  
  


Hope’s roommate seems to have disappeared and Hope deducts that she’s probably in the back or something. The girl tries not to focus too much on not seeing her, because she is supposed to be looking at the whole of the store—the whole idea of what work is about. Hope shakes her head, she needs to focus. Josie never really told her what to look out for, though. 

  
  


Hope throws some cash in the tip jar, but her motive is more snobbish and selfish than kind. She isn’t doing it for the right reasons. Part of her wants Josie to notice—Josie who isn’t even in Hope’s line of vision. 

  
  


The girl makes her way back to a comfortable chair in the darkened corner. She looks around the room and is surprised at just how many people are in here. She knows the spot is popular, but it’s so _damn_ early. Hope brings her assignments onto her lap and places her bag beside her. 

  
  


An hour soon passes and Hope still can’t bother to see anything. She’s too stuck at looking at Josie, she’s too stuck in some fantasy world. She even puts her assignments away, but keeps her laptop and a notebook out just so she won’t look weird to anyone who might catch her glance.

  
  


She finds that Josie welcomes everyone that comes in and when she forgets too, there’s this upset look on her face—like she’s mad at herself for not doing so. The auburn-haired girl also notices that Josie greets everyone with the same words every time, but she says it differently each time she talks, as if somehow there can be more than one meaning to it. 

  
  


It fascinates her completely. Her eyes are slowly becoming addicted to just watching the girl. Hope inwardly groans. This wasn’t what she was supposed to be doing at all. She tries to focus on the people around her—the old man sitting next to his wife, the blonde boy on his phone, the middle-aged lady scolding her kids for making a mess. 

  
  


How can this be entertaining to Josie? How can this be what she looks forward to everyday? How does this make a job _more_ than a job? 

  
  


None of it is sticking with her. If anything, it’s annoying her. Why should Josie put up with customers who are being so harsh for no real reason? The girl has already gotten countless numbers of those customers and Hope finds herself wanting to stand up and argue with them every single time. 

  
  


It’s only her willpower that’s keeping her still and glued to her seat. 

  
  


Hope is even more mad at the number of old—illegal—guys that keep on flirting with Josie. Was the girl really just supposed to stand there and _laugh_ it off? Hope has finished about zero of her assignments when something catches her attention.

  
  


She notices a young man that is talking to Josie for what, by now, seems like five minutes. It causes Hope to pause because an order really only takes a minute or two at most. Hope acknowledges that the guy must be their age, or close. 

  
  


He moves to pay and the machine makes some weird sound. Hope narrows her eyes at the way Josie’s lips turn into a small frown. She’s able to make out Josie’s words, “Sorry. That didn’t go through. Uh, maybe try again!” 

  
  


The boy nods, a sheepish, nervous grin on his face. He uses the card again, but it declines. He takes out another card, but that one also declines. Hope cringes. 

  
  


He’s gone through four cards by now and Hope looks somewhere else, feeling second-hand embarrassment. Josie flushes a bit, too, looking past the boy and to the line of waiting customers. It doesn’t even take her three seconds to make a decision. 

  
  


“You know what?” Josie bites the inside of her cheek, taking out her own card. “I got it. You’re good to go, I’ll have your food out in a sec,” she smiles at him, sticking her card into the machine and entering her pin number. 

  
  


“What? No, you can’t! It’s fine!” the boy says but the purchase has already gone through and he can’t do anything about it. Hope watches as the boy turns to look at Josie, “I have to get you back somehow. Give me your number, so I can pay you back.” With the way he says it, it doesn’t even sound like flirting. It sounds genuine and Hope tilts her head at it. 

  
  


“No, don’t worry about it. I’m glad to do so,” Josie hands him his receipt and he thanks her endlessly. He turns around, letting the next customer step up in line, and calls out another thank you. 

  
  


A few minutes later, he grabs his items and yells out to Josie, “I’ll be back for you! I’ll come another time to repay you!” The boy’s loudness grabs everyone’s attention and Josie timidly smiles, a muscle pulling at her lips in response. 

  
  


“Don’t bother,” Josie calls out as well and the shorter girl thinks she’s never seen this side of Josie before—so free, so happy. Actually, if Hope really thinks about it, she’s seen it the whole day. 

  
  


It shows up when Josie gets into a meaningful conversation with a customer, it shows up when she cracks a joke and the customer laughs too hard and too loud. 

  
  


It shows up when some lady asks Josie to pick her a drink—to surprise her—and Josie doesn’t even get nervous about it. She chooses a drink for the lady in all of a second, as if by just looking at the older woman, Josie knows exactly what she’d want. 

  
  


It’s in how Josie responds to people. She does it so effortlessly, like this was made for her—a true people-person.

  
  


It’s in the way Josie wipes down the tables, slightly moving up and down to the music. It’s not noticeable to the naked eye, but it’s enough to be acknowledged by Hope’s careful, attentive ones. Hope wants to notice it, she wants to see everything. 

  
  


Hope doesn’t feel tired at all anymore. She can’t even remember it’s so early in the morning. The day-breaking nature of the sun is only a fleeting memory. 

  
  


Hope can’t even be bothered to be jealous of the boy—jealous of Josie’s kindness for the guy. She’s too consumed with the thought of how captivating Josie is, how attractive her affection is. She tilts her head up slightly, wanting to see more of the girl from behind the counter. She stops trying to look so hard a few moments later, when she locks eyes with a stranger who throws her a curious look.

  
  


Hope zones out, her eyes plastered on her assignments but looking at _nothing_. The spell she’s in breaks five seconds later when she feels an arm on her shoulder. She turns around and is met with familiar brown eyes. She wonders how Josie got to her so quickly.

  
  


“Hey,” the shorter girl says, greeting the girl. 

  
  


“I’m on break,” Josie explains, sitting next to the girl where there’s space on the arm of the chair. Hope scoots to the right so Josie can have more room.

  
  


“So much for not knowing me,” Hope mumbles, referring back to their conversation earlier. A smile threatens to show on her face.

  
  


“Uh...what’d you learn so far?” Josie talks fast, almost as if she doesn’t really want to say anything. She looks uncomfortable, like she had to suffer a muscle spasm in order to mouth the words. 

  
  


“Oh, are we in class now?” Hope blanks, sarcastically. The movement’s awkward but she turns to look at Josie nonetheless, “Should I raise my hand before speaking?” 

  
  


“You’re not taking this seriously enough.,” Josie says, her tone soft with disappointment. She stands up, her shoulders deflated. Her jaw visibly ticks, “Go home.” 

  
  


“With what car?” Hope remarks uneasily, falling troubled due to her own words. She truly can’t help it—the devil comes out on it’s own. 

  
  


“I’m sure you can find something,” Josie bristles, already turning to walk away—to find somewhere else to spend her break. Hope rolls her eyes, grabbing the girl back by her arm. She doesn’t make the same mistake twice—the bathroom situation is far too hellish to remember. 

  
  


“Stop,” Hope musters all the strength she has and ultimately ends up switching their positions and pushing the girl down on the comfortable chair. She cowers over her, as there really isn’t anywhere else to be, “Sit. You’ve been standing for four hours.” Hope knows not to join her on the spot, knows not to try to share the chair again. 

  
  


Josie throws her a weird look, resting snugly back onto the cushion. She pouts. “The seat is warm.” She takes Hope’s school backpack, opening it up and looking through it curiously. Hope snatches it from her. 

  
  


“I’ve been sitting there the whole time. What do you expect?” Hope deadpans, crossing her arms and forming a pout. It’s contagious.

  
  


“Yet you learned nothing?” 

  
  


“Exactly. Wait—” Hope speaks too soon, not quite really hearing Josie’s sentence. The other girl, for her part, doesn’t wait to hear the rest of Hope’s. Again, she stands up, intent on leaving. The blue-eyed girl sits her down once more, in an almost desperate sort of way.

  
  


“How long’s your break?” she blurts, trying to distract Josie from the subject. Hope’s seen a lot in her few hours at the store, but it doesn’t mean she wants to talk about it. 

  
  


“Half an hour,” Josie says, seeming curious at Hope’s question. 

  
  


The blue-eyed girl’s throat bobs. She runs her tongue along her teeth hesitantly. Her fingers pull throughout her hair in a nervous manner. “There’s a French bakery around the corner. Maybe we could run over there and grab food? What do you think?” 

  
  


Josie raises her eyebrows, almost impressed. She must get over her shock sooner than later because she nods. 

  
  


“Better than coffee.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the short chapter, i've been busy with work and just wanted to update. thank you for reading everyone


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i haven't updated, i've been protesting lol. but anyways, now is the time to speak out. there's several ways to do so and i don't want to repeat what you guys have probably heard already. but I just urge you to talk. don't stay silent, please. talk and listen, listen, listen. it can be hard to have a conversation with someone but continue to be persistent. it matters. especially right now. do whatever you can to help

“Let me drive,” Hope starts as the two walk towards Josie’s car. She’s trailing behind the girl, much like she always does. 

  
  


Josie takes off her cap and apron and tosses them behind her, presumably thinking that Hope would just catch them. Hope groans but is able to catch them before they fall to the ground. She struggles to hold onto them as her school bag digs into her shoulder. 

  
  


“No chance in hell,” Josie says, trying to retrieve her keys from her own bag. She throws a look behind her, grasping onto the image of Hope—a full-on mess. She’s only added onto it. 

  
  


“I know where it is,” Hope declares, much like she has a good reason to actually drive the car, much like Josie can’t comprehend directions and Hope just knows better.

  
  


“You said it was a block over right?” Josie continues to walk, her feet hitting the pavement with a percussive, irritable noise. It’s really starting to drive Hope crazy.

  
  


“Yeah, but…” Hope trails, not really sure of how to continue her argument. She just wants to drive.

  
  


Josie rolls her eyes, turning to meet with Hope. She stops the girl with a hand on her chest, although still keeping her own distance. “If you wanted my help, you could’ve just asked.” The taunt is loud and clear, and Hope recognizes it all too well. Josie smirks, and it’s way too seductive for Hope’s sober eyes. The auburn-haired girl frowns and Josie drops her hand.

  
  


“You’re the one that threw these clothes on me!” Hope puffs, throwing Josie’s apron back to the girl and leaving the hat for herself. She puts the cap on and throws Josie a smirk, tilting the hat down in a mocking gesture. It fits perfectly on her head. 

  
  


“Stop! You’re gonna give me lice!” Josie’s smile falls and she glares at the girl across from her, completely regretting giving the pieces of clothing to Hope to carry.

  
  


“Please, my hair is too beautiful,” Hope smiles, running her hands through her hair in some sort of self admiration. Her smile is daunting and proud and Josie finds herself groaning, again.

  
  


“Why did you park so far?” Hope asks. They’ve only just crossed the street to the parking lot, their banter slowing them down and forcing them into an unreasonable, lethargic pace.

  
  


“Employees have to park far so customers get the best, and like more accessible spots,” Josie explains, unlocking her car. Hope nods her head at the explanation, but doesn’t say anything else.

  
  


The two are just a few feet away from the vehicle when a middle-aged female stops them. The woman turns her attention to Hope, “Hi! You work here right?”

  
  


Hope frowns, confused, but the cap on top of her head drags down, serving as a reminder to her. “Oh…”

  
  


The blue-eyed girl turns her attention towards Josie, whose mouth is strung open like she’s about to butt into their conversation. Hope ignores her. “Yes! I work here.”

  
  


“Perfect! What time do you close?” the woman asks, despite Josie’s inability to keep her calm. The girl is basically sputtering in anger and is stepping back and forth anxiously.

  
  


“We’re closed right now, actually…” Hope says, smiling even though her news is technically bad for the woman. The devious smile is, undoubtedly, for Josie. The girl clears her throat beside her.

  
  


“Wait, we’re open! We close at ten, ma’am.” Josie talks fast, perhaps hoping that the blue-eyed girl next to her won’t interrupt soon. There’s still a kindness in her voice, thick in its formality. The woman facing the pair furrows her eyebrows, undeniably puzzled at the circumstances.

  
  


“Oh, I’m sorry. I must’ve been misinformed,” Hope apologizes, but that _damn_ smile is still on her face. She looks down, trying to dissuade the grin taking over her face.

  
  


“It’s fine, dear. Thank you!” the woman gets in her car, possibly coming back later or wanting to know the information for another time. She waves at the two of them.

  
  


The pair get in the car and Josie pulls out of the parking lot. “I’m going to kill you for that, by the way.” Hope’s roommate shoots the girl a look, pulling the hat off the girl whilst driving. 

  
  


It causes Hope to laugh because _everything_ Josie has done has already killed her—Josie’s antics and behavior have completely murdered her common sense and peace of mind by compelling her into this strange infatuation. Hope is really just a dead man walking by now.

  
  


“No, you aren’t,” Hope glances towards the girl, breathing in the air of Josie’s car. The girl’s scent fills within Hope’s nose. It isn’t Hope’s fault when she continues to breathe in, the scent something satisfying and intoxicating—like her nose wouldn’t fare well without it.

  
  


“God, now we have like twenty minutes. Thanks for ruining my break for me,” Josie groans when she checks the time below her dashboard. Her stomach grumbles inaudibly from hunger.

  
  


“So this is what you look forward to?” Hope questions with a little attitude sliding against her tongue, forming the words for her.

  
  


“Huh?” Josie frowns, unsure of Hope’s intention and point.

  
  


“You’ve worked your ass off for five hours and you get a small-ass break,” Hope shakes her heads, an anger filling the insides of her, sticking along to her organs and pounding her brain against her skull. She chuckles darkly, “And then you have to go back for like three more hours, I presume?” 

  
  


“Yeah...but I still don’t understand your point,” Josie says, her eyes on the road as she enters another parking lot. They’ve just about pulled up to the bakery.

  
  


“You don’t have much to look forward to,” Hope states, opening her own car door when they come to a complete stop at the front of the restaurant.

  
  


“I have the end of the day to look forward to, to just be able to rest in my bed tonight is pleasure enough,” Josie says, but her phrases come out unconvincing and defiant to any sincere feeling. She shrugs as Hope looks at her from the car window. The girl rolls the windows up and exits the car when her roommate opens the door for her.

  
  


Josie passes Hope while the girl closes the driver seat’s door. Hope puffs, feeling the girl walk away from her all over again. “You’re lying.”

  
  


“I’m not.”

  
  


“You are because you know tomorrow you’ll have to do everything all over again,” Hope catches up with her and they walk in together. “You’ll have to wake up early and do it _again_.” 

  
  


“I happen to have tomorrow off,” Josie smiles, tilting her head and looking through the desserts and items in the window display.

  
  


“You know what I mean,” Hope bristles, standing alongside the girl and eyeing the croissants.

  
  


Hope thinks that jobs are just hell. There’s no way someone could find enjoyment in _this_ kind of job. She continues when Josie doesn’t speak, “You don’t enjoy work.”

  
  


It causes Josie to turn so violently that Hope thinks she’s about to get slapped again. However, to Hope’s surprise, there’s no anger on her face. It’s plainly just curiosity—she tilts her head to look up at her roommate and furrows her eyebrows. “I do,” Josie denies and moves over towards the sandwiches. 

  
  


Hope doesn’t want to provoke her again.

  
  


Josie ends up buying a sandwich and a drink from the coolers and Hope sticks with an order of a dozen madeleines and a chocolate croissant. The bakery is near empty but Hope prefers it.

  
  


Josie bites into her sandwich, swallows it, and then sighs, “This is good.”

  
  


“I know,” Hope says, but doesn’t bother to eat anything she herself has gotten. She’s not really hungry—her hunger vanished the second she laid eyes on Josie again, her mind perhaps stronger than her stomach—and prefers just to watch the girl.

  
  


“You know, even if it looks like it’s hard to enjoy work all the time,” Josie places her sandwich back on her plate and leans back in her chair. She meets Hope’s eyes, “There’s moments that make it more than tolerable. Sometimes, it’s fun and _good_. You just have to have the right mindset.”

  
  


“But doesn’t it ever get so…” Hope trails on, unable to find the word at first. She’s able to seconds later, “...monotonous?” The blue-eyed girl scooches her chair closer to the table—to Josie.

  
  


The brown-eyed girl narrows her eyes and Hope decides to start again when Josie picks up her sandwich, “Like having to do the same thing everyday or every other day. Or whatever someone’s schedule is.” 

  
  


“I mean, of course,” the brunette agrees after a moment. She adds to it, “But what do you think your future will look like? There’s monotony in every job. It doesn’t mean that you have to _stick_ with being...I don’t know. Stuck?” 

  
  


In the small pause of Josie realizing how her words came out, Hope takes the time to distract herself by nibbling on a piece of her croissant. The brunette then laughs at her own statement. “Whatever. Just because I may not like my job for a second or an hour, it doesn’t mean that I don’t _like_ my job.”   
  


“Nevermind,” Josie noticeably deflates, her mouth down-turning in the familiar way it always seems to fall back to. Her eyes then drop to her sandwich, brows furrowed and beyond discouraged, “You don’t get it.” 

  
  


_I don’t get it?_

  
  


Hope bites the inside of her cheek at the dismissive tone, willing her lips into a thin line of silence. It doesn’t work. Anger rushes to her ears and scorches her vision. 

  
  


“Can you stop with the disappointed-pouty-face crap?” she snaps, a numb sneer pulling at her mouth. It curls around unforgiving words and clipped syllables. “Don’t you see that I’m trying to understand?” 

  
  


Josie doesn’t even seem fazed at her outburst, simply sipping on her apple juice box like a fucking child. Hope seethes, gritting her teeth as the other girl finishes her drink. 

  
  


“I see a privileged girl snacking on dessert, so no,” Josie sighs, lowering her lips to her straw once again as a slurping noise sounds from the empty drink. She pouts. “Can you get me another juice box? This one’s empty.” 

  
  


Hope stands up, rolling her eyes. She walks away, leaving Josie with, “You’re such a hypocrite.”

  
  


Even as the auburn-haired girl practically steams with barely concealed anger, she manages to buy Josie another box of apple juice instead of storming out of the bakery and slamming the door like she so desperately wants to. Hope quietly thanks the only employee in the store as she pays for the item, ignoring the curious look he sends between her and Josie. 

  
  


“Well, that was dramatic,” Josie remarks as Hope approaches their table again. She draws her eyebrows together, sitting down with a slight huff as the taller girl swipes the drink from her. “For a second, I thought you weren’t coming back with my juice box.” 

  
  


Hope resists the deep urge to reach over the table and take the juice box back. 

  
  


“Is that all you care about?” 

  
  


“I was joking,” the brunette recalls rather unenthusiastically. She rocks back and forth on her chair and Hope has never seen someone resemble a child as much before. It angers her and somehow calms her at the same time. She takes a deep breath before blowing up all over again.

  
  


“No, really,” Hope draws out, acting intrigued. “You sit here and have the nerve to lecture me on good and wrong like you’re some sort of moral angel. Have you forgotten that you come from the same wealth as I do?” She grasps the table with her right hand and her other hand drops underneath the table and balls into a fist.

  
  


“And yet I know how to use my privilege,” the girl raises an eyebrow and narrows her eyes viciously at Hope in the same second. Hope feels like she’s watching some _Eat the Rich_ documentary. She feels like someone is telling her all the wrong things she’s been doing but she still doesn’t know how to correct herself. Her mind won’t let her comprehend past any of it.

  
  


There’s this continuous conflict in her brain and she wonders if she only wants to change for Josie—if she’s here just for Josie. She knows it’s terrible, but it doesn’t stop her from thinking about it.

  
  


“By working a minimum wage job?” Hope questions, unable to connect the dots and see the whole picture—the frame is a barrier too wide and she has never been good at jumping. “Yeah, that’s helping loads,” the girl drawls sarcastically. 

  
  


“At least I don’t look down on others like you do,” she fingers her straw absentmindedly and their eyes stick to each other. There’s no moving past the corner of Josie’s eyelashes, and it seems the girl facing her is having the same trouble. There’s a fierceness in Josie’s eyes and it travels to her tongue and comes out through her mouth.

  
  


“How?” Hope asks. She doesn’t think she’s _so_ bad. 

  
  


“Please. Don’t act oblivious. You think you’re superior to everyone else,” Josie states, with fine reason. She goes on to explain, much like a researcher who observes, or a scientist who hypothesizes, or a therapist who listens, “It’s why you can’t comprehend the struggles of the working class, or any job that you’re not in a position of power over others in.”

  
  


She says it so reasonably and casually that Hope listens to it with ease. She says it like she’s talked to someone about the same thing before. It makes Hope’s heart ache and fall apart. She pauses, heavily in denial.

  
  


“No,” she shakes her head, feeling herself pull away from the conversation. She leans back when Josie tries to start again and pushes the girl away, “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“No, you’re just scared,” Josie shrivels her napkin into a fist and laughs. She tosses the napkin into the trash can a few feet away. Her laughter stops, “Because I know all about you.” 

  
  


Hope feels an anger she’s never quite felt before at being generalized. It crawls in her brain and attaches itself to her neurons, dismissing any transmitter from traveling. It cuts off her connections, and eats away at anything left viable. “You think you do.”

  
  


She breathes in and feels the bakery like dust. Suffocating.

  
  


“But there’s more. You can’t be this serious,” Hope spits out. “Why is this so important to you?”

  
  


“You’ve asked that before,” Josie hangs on to the question and remembers it vividly. She stands up, pushing her chair in and throws away any remaining trash. Hope does the same and they leave together, headed towards the car. 

  
  


“What? Did Daddy make your childhood so terrible? Was being rich _that_ bad?” Hope asks, a taunting tone to her endless questions. " _Y_ _ou’re_ the one who sounds privileged.” She follows Josie out, but this time walking alongside the girl. She doesn’t feel like looking on from behind.

  
  


Josie doesn’t answer her and Hope’s sure she’s struck a nerve. She thinks Josie’s about to leave her when the brunette gets in the car, but the passenger door unlocks a second later. The blue-eyed girl sighs in relief. She tugs the door open and falls in the seat.

  
  


The pair are headed back in no time and a silence fills the space in the vehicle, taking up the room in the car like a bouncy house would to a backyard. It’s explosive but perhaps not as dangerous as first thought.

  
  


It helps to decrease the tension between the two. Hope decides that _not_ talking is definitely better. 

  
  


Hope’s phone rings in her pocket. She finds a few text messages from Sam and fills the girl in without really filling her in. Sam sends the girl a meme, which really isn’t that funny but it causes Hope to laugh anyhow. She hears a throat clear beside her. When she looks up, she sees Josie’s eyes on her phone.

  
  


Josie looks expectantly at the girl, causing Hope to pause, “What?”

  
  


“What’s so funny?” The brown-eyed girl speaks up and it’s all bitter to Hope’s ears.

  
  


“Nothing, just something my friend said,” Hope explains, leaving Josie with close to nothing.

  
  


“Which friend?” Josie says casually, but Hope knows she is being anything but. Her words are too decisive to be nonchalant. It makes Hope confused. Why does she care so much?

  
  


“Sam…” Hope trails off, but doesn’t know why she even responded. She doesn’t owe Josie much of anything, especially after what had happened a few minutes ago. She feels obligated to respond, nonetheless. The words come out of her mouth without much fight.

  
  


“The tall brunette?” Josie describes, her face frowning even further. There’s a bite to her question, as if there’s another reason why she has asked. Hope notices that she grips the steering wheel tighter. The blue-eyed girl’s face scrunches up in puzzlement.

  
  


“Yes,” she answers, and it comes out as a whisper. Josie becomes almost stone in front of Hope’s eyes—her position in her seat becomes stiff and her eyes default to displeasure.

  
  


“She was the one at the party. Right?” The brunette asks slowly. She then hesitates, like the words are hurting her to just say them, like her throat closes up after every syllable. “Who you...kissed.” Her throat bobs and Hope feels the instant urge to reach out. She doesn’t. 

  
  


“Yes,” Hope breathes again, her voice thick and laced with anxiety. The two have just pulled into the parking lot and Josie finds a spot in the back of the lot. She parks, and then turns to Hope. 

  
  


She doesn’t say anything. The air conditioning vent continues to be the only noise that resounds throughout the vehicle. There’s this look in her eyes, the same look from the party. But now there’s a sadness tinged in her iris, keeping her desires at bay. Her lips are naturally red, just about begging to be kissed and Hope wonders what Josie’s thinking. She looks deep in thought and her lips are twitching like there’s something to be said. Her mouth stays shut, however.

  
  


“...It was for Lizzie,” Hope clarifies about Sam’s kiss, as though Josie can’t possibly presume so on her own. “Your sister was going to find out. And you weren’t much help.” 

  
  


“I know,” Josie states, understanding but still looking agitated.

  
  


“Then why are you being like this?” Hope inwardly groans, but nothing runs past her lips. “God, you tell me to forget and pretend, and when I do so, you’re angry or whatever this is...just, I can’t even—”

  
  


Hope leans back, closing her eyes for less than a second and then pausing. “You’re gonna be late,” Hope says after a long moment, after she’s calmed down. Josie’s eyes feel like electricity and Hope has never been more energized. It makes her head pound and her body sting with intensity and disorder. “You should go.”

  
  


_Stay._

  
  


Hope wonders why her roommate seems so upset at her and her friend kissing. It _was_ to cover up her and Josie’s own kiss. It was for Josie. She can’t be upset about that. Hope was just keeping her promise, she was just pretending. Josie has no right to be angered by it. 

  
  


She hopes the girl is jealous—this is what it has to be—that she feels the same pain that Hope has to suffer through. She hopes this is Josie’s manifestation of it, that Josie will say something—that she’ll talk about their own kiss or she’ll beg Hope not to kiss anyone else. The girl feels hopeful all over, a possessiveness aching in her heart at the thought of Josie being jealous. She wants the brunette to see how painful it is—how Hope’s experienced every emotion possible by just watching her and Penelope.

  
  


Her expectations fall terribly short. 

  
  


Josie checks the time—she has three minutes before she has to clock back in. “You’re right.” She leans back and the distance hurts Hope more than she would’ve thought. She takes her keys out of the ignition and turns off the car, opening her door and just about slamming it shut. Hope follows, more than a few feet behind her. She thinks it’s best.

  
  


She watches as the girl rushes to the coffee shop, perhaps more late now than a minute ago. 

  
  


Her hope diminishes with every step she takes, dripping off of her toes and hitting the pavement in generous splashes. It reabsorbs within her when Josie turns back, just before she opens the door. There’s no one near them and Hope is immediately grateful for it. Josie takes a few steps to shorten the distance, but not enough to be standing within a foot of the girl. Her face is caked in distress, and she hesitates profusely. 

  
  


“Don’t forget. I don’t want you to,” the brunette says, and it’s loud enough for Hope to hear but quiet enough to be called a secret. 


	16. Chapter 16

A small smile makes its way across the auburn-haired girl’s face and Hope is suddenly glad that Josie’s now fully turned around and inside the shop. A smile reveals too much—it exhausts any option to stay neutral and it just _shows_ too much.

  
  


Hope makes her way towards the door, slipping inside a few seconds after her roommate. She grabs a different seat from the one before—her previous spot is now occupied—but this area is still comfortable and actually spares a better view of the counter—of Josie. Hope throws her bag to the side, not even bothering to act like she’s doing homework.

  
  


Although she really hasn’t finished any of her assignments, most of them aren’t even due for a few weeks. Distraction easily molds itself into Hope and everything goes hand-in-hand with Josie. Hope falls back onto her chair comfortably.

  
  


She ends up pulling out her laptop and searching for ideas for her painting. She almost wishes she has a sketchpad or _something_ with her. Almost. Momentarily, she feels bad for Landon—he must be going through hell right now. She looks around the room for any sort of inspiration to jot down.

  
  


The coffee shop in itself is interesting. A comfy air resides in the walls and the space is modern but not at the same time. The area is opened but closed—the entrance isn’t clogged but the sitting areas are rather packed by the couches and chairs. It’s such a paradox that the whole image rather confuses Hope.

  
  


The walls are bare, only a few paintings truly clothe what’s there. The paintings themselves are truly uncanny and almost maniacal under Hope’s scrutiny. There’s three of them. 

  
  


Hope takes out her phone to search something up when something catches her ears. Her phone almost falls out of her hand.

  
  


“Lizzie! Hi!” Josie yells—extremely loud—and it doesn’t fail to pass Hope’s ears. Hell, it doesn’t pass _anyone’s_ ears. Hope looks over, right away, and her eyes widen unmistakably. A panic feels within Hope when she recognizes the blonde girl a few feet away from her. Hope is so glad that Josie’s sister has her back turned to her.

  
  


“Lizzie! What are you doing here, Lizzie?” The brown-eyed girl emphasizes the name so clearly that Hope would laugh if she wasn’t so scared. Josie herself looks alarmed and it’s evident in the way her hands start to move along the counter and in the way she steps back and forth at the register. 

  
  


“Why do you keep saying my name like that?” Lizzie’s eyebrows furrow and a suspicious look drowns her face. The blonde girl frowns and Josie tries to further distract her.

  
  


This will not look good. Not at all. 

  
  


“I don’t know…” Josie laughs and then emphasizes her name one last time just in case Hope really didn’t hear her, “...Lizzie!” The brunette punches her sister’s shoulder, like the girl has just said something quite funny, but Hope knows it’s just another warning to leave. Quickly.

  
  


Hope puts on her sunglasses, ready to make an escape. She knows she should’ve brought a wig. She grabs all of her stuff and tosses it in her bag—when Hope hears a crunch sound come from her laptop, she doesn’t even take the time to acknowledge it.

  
  


She walks away and quickly remembers the dozen assortment of madeleines—the ones in the small pocket of her bag—she had bought earlier at the bakery. Then, it was concealed, so Josie really hadn’t seen it. Hope had planned to give it to Josie at the bakery, but nerves and a sudden loss of courage expelled any offering or affection. 

  
  


An employee passes her and Hope takes the opportunity. She finds that Josie is still trying to divert her sister’s attention from seeing Hope, and it sort of spikes a smile on her face. Half of her wants to just walk up to Lizzie and say hello, to psych her roommate out. The _real_ half of Hope knows to run far, far, far away.

  
  


Hope taps slightly on the employee’s shoulder and when he turns around, she tries to smile as smoothly as she can manage. “Hi, uh, can you give this to your coworker? The one at the front?” The blue-eyed girl gestures at the box of dessert and he takes it from her hands.

  
  


“Of course! But sorry, you’re gonna have to be more specific. Which one?” The employee says kindly, giving his full attention to Hope. He points towards the front area and Hope notices that there’s three employees. The girl cringes as she glances around at the full workplace.

  
  


“The one who looks like she’s about to shit her pants,” Hope answers, an anxious laugh coming out of her lips. She walks closer to the door and he follows, still in their conversation.

  
  


“Oh! Jo?” The guy’s face turns up in recognition, looking over to Josie due to Hope’s description of her. He smiles, sort of looking at the brunette in admiration. After a moment, he turns his attention back to the girl in front of him.

  
  


_Jo?_

  
  


“Who?” The nickname causes Hope to blank momentarily but then she recovers, “Oh yeah. Yes. Her.” Her face curls in interest and curiosity, but she recovers as he nods his head. She stops at the exit, halting both of their movement.

  
  


“Sure!” The young boy grins, moving past Hope to make his way to Josie—to carry out the request. As Hope sees that Josie is still talking to her sister, she pulls him back almost instantly.

  
  


“Not now!” She whispers, just about ready to slap him for trying to embarrass her. He smiles in return. God, does this kid ever _not_ smile? She pauses, throwing out an apology, and then whispers, “Give it to her later.”

  
  


Lizzie can’t know Hope was ever here. If he gives it to her now, Josie’s sister will surely have questions.

  
  


“But aren’t you leaving right now?” He asks, being incredibly nosy. The employee also seems to lighten up at the drama as his voice bounces off of Hope’s ears excitably.

  
  


“Are you gonna do it or not?” Hope tilts her head down, ready to find some other employee or not doing anything at all and just leave. This is taking too long. 

  
  


“Don’t worry,” he steps closer towards Hope, an easy expression across his face. “I got you! Have a good day, Miss.” It reassures Hope and she leaves the little shop, looking back one last time to see the worried image of Josie.

  
  


She sighs and makes her way out, grabbing her phone to call for an Uber.

  
  


-

  
  


After the short ride home—alongside the creep in the driver’s seat—Hope is finally able to return back to her dorm. Hope, rather suddenly, is filled with this worry for Josie, and hopes that Lizzie will keep the girl entertained for the rest of her shift. She feels upset and anxious for a reason she can’t particularly place, but she reckons to chase the feeling away quickly before she can identify it.

  
  


She takes a fast shower, making sure she doesn’t use up all the hot water. If she feels tired doing _nothing_ all day, she wonders how Josie must feel. It’s still the afternoon but Hope feels like it’s midnight or something. She plops onto her bed and falls asleep in seconds.

  
  


-

  
  


What feels like minutes later, but is actually a few hours, Hope is woken up by someone pulling off her comforter. Again.

  
  


“What the...fuck?” Hope mumbles the words as she opens her eyes slowly, hugging her bed sheets. As she opens them, she sees her roommate. Hope groans and turns her body around, fully faced-down on her pillow and bed. She takes her pillow and puts it above her head, trying to stop the light from filling her eyes—usually closing them would just do the trick, but now her eyelids are red in that familiar way of walking into the sunlight.

  
  


“Why are you asleep?” A voice comes from the bedside, and Josie seems irritated and full-blown annoyed—or even jealous—at Hope’s nap-induced appearance.

  
  


Hope shifts in her spot, taking a deep breath before sitting up and throwing her legs over the bed. She doesn’t fully get up, though. She wipes at her head, feeling a massive headache at the simple movement of just sitting up. Hope tries to grab her comforter, but the brunette facing her takes a step back, “Why do you take my blankets from me every time you're upset?” 

  
  


Josie holds up the comforter, like she’s holding power over the girl. Hope notices the girl’s appearance—disheveled and on the verge of collapsing from fatigue or what not. Her hair is in the same ponytail it’s been in all day but it’s less neater than how it was in the morning. “How are you asleep? I’m the one who worked the entire day.”

  
  


“Not this work shit again,” Hope mumbles, getting up and out of her bed at Josie’s angered tone. Josie isn’t able to understand the words and crosses her arms in front of her chest, more pissed off than she was a second ago. 

  
  


“What’d you say?” 

  
  


“Nothing,” Hope smiles falsely and the grin falls off a moment after Josie has looked away. She grabs her phone off the nightstand and checks the time. She sits back onto her bed and watches as Josie, in front of her, moves around the room. “You woke me up because you were mad?”

  
  


“Yes,” the brown-eyed girl deadpans, throwing a tired glance at Hope and then removing her bag of its contents. All the items spiral onto her bed. A small box falls out—an empty box—and Hope recognizes it as the one she had given to Josie. Or the one the employee had given to Josie for her. 

  
  


Hope glances at the container and might spend a second too long on the thought of it because Josie also eyes it, turning her head past her shoulder to notice where her roommate’s eyes have focused. An intense look spreads across Josie’s face before she says, “Thank you for…” She stumbles for a second before she continues in a different direction, “They were good.”

  
  


“I see that,” Hope remarks, signaling towards the empty box. She starts to become shy, at having done such a gesture—buying someone a dessert.

  
  


“Don’t call me a fat-ass,” Josie accuses, causing Hope to raise her arms up in resignation. The brunette goes on, smiling slightly, “Lizzie and I ate them together on my last break.”

  
  


Hope raises her eyebrows, a look of amusement falling across her features. She shakes her head somewhat pointedly, “I didn’t say anything.” The girl feigns any assumption in the first place and then asks, “Did she question who they were from?”

  
  


At the inquiry, Josie’s face falls. It’s for a second but Hope notices and holds on to the image. The girl’s eyebrows furrow in confusion at Josie’s expression. Josie throws away something and then turns to meet Hope’s eyes after a quiet sigh. Hope only catches it because of the way her shoulders deflate and how her mouth down-turns in the familiar way it usually does. “I told her they were from Penelope.”

  
  


“Oh,” Hope’s jaw juts out and if it’s from sadness or anger, Josie can’t tell. The auburn-haired girl’s eyes meet the floor, and the ground looks up at her in sympathy. 

  
  


“Hope, no one can—”

  
  


It’s the first time Josie has _really_ said the girl’s name, but Hope can’t bother to take the time to understand what it means. A name does mean something. Right?

  
  


Josie moves towards the bed, towards Hope, and the girl backs away. She stands up and walks over to her desk, trying to shrug Josie off of her. She cuts the girl off before she can say anymore, “Don’t worry!” Hope smiles, trying to discourage the noticeable anguish in Josie’s own face. The expression is forced, and her face swallows down the smile, trying to make her feel better—a smile forces happiness. “I get it.”

  
  


Hope’s roommate shakes her head, perhaps choosing not to believe her. However, at the same time she accepts Hope’s words, not really responding or saying anything to dissipate Hope’s momentary discomfort. “Good.” She takes her hair out of her ponytail, and Hope watches as it falls down and around her roommate’s face.

  
  


The shorter girl glances towards her mattress, wanting to go back to bed. She doesn’t even feel tired anymore, the whole series of events energizing her. However, the twenty minutes that she has been awake haven't been kind to her, so maybe she’ll have a better chance in the lull of sleep. She stops acting like she’s paying attention to the papers on her desk and starts to walk back to her bed. 

  
  


“What are you doing?” Hope hears from Josie’s mouth just as she’s about to climb under her covers. The blue-eyed girl has never had such the desire to roll her eyes before.

  
  


“I’m going back to sleep,” she mutters, closing her eyes. There’s silence and then Hope hears another sound come from Josie’s lips and sink into her ears.

  
  


“Really? That’s—”

  
  


It makes Hope more than aggravated.

  
  


“Stop,” Hope whiffs, cutting off the girl for what feels like the thousandth time today. “You can’t act like you don’t care about me and then turn around and do _this_.” It’s a complete over-reaction, but Josie’s lack of reaction amounts for the balance.

  
  


Josie falls back, not scared of her but allowing the space for _her_. It isn’t what Hope wants at all. The girl is like talking to a fucking wall, and Hope can’t jump over her as much as she tries to.

  
  


She gets out of her bed—once again—and picks up her phone, driving straight for the door. Josie pauses, maybe feeling everything crumble right before her eyes, and follows after Hope. The taller girl runs a hand through her hair, as Hope pulls on the knob. “Wait.” A silence levitates the air and Hope awaits any further response from the girl.

  
  


“You’re right,” Josie whispers, like she’s about to confess or apologize. But something in her face falters—a panic drives itself through her eyes, daggering her with all the subtlety of a dull knife, and she keys off, “Uh...I don’t care.” The words come out so scratchy that Hope thinks she’s suddenly fallen ill.

  
  


She also says it with an air of indifference, but the cracked edges of her voice give her away. Hope shakes her head with silent, disbelieving laughter. Her hand on the knob falls and she steps next to the brunette, who looks up at their sudden proximity. 

  
  


“I see,” Hope quirks up a rueful smile, mustering the ability to talk. “Why’d you say what you said earlier, then?” She asks, referring to how the girl had misled Hope to not forget about their kiss. Josie doesn’t reply, and the silence reverbs in Hope’s ears, making her wish she was deaf.

  
  


She takes another step forward, “Behind closed doors you’re nothing but a coward.” Hope starts to laugh again, but this time it’s more of an angry kind of laughter, one that suffocates a room and fills it up with fire.

  
  


“You talk to people all day,” she continues, stepping closer as Josie continues to back away. One step forward, one step back. Fire on fire. “Yet you never seem to have any words for me.” 

  
  


As her sentence comes to an end, her anger sobers and turns to a bold type of sadness. It makes her throat throb to have to say it, and her heart ache to have to be so desperate. She feels her throat punish her when she tries to swallow—it hurts too much. These emotions she feels endlessly are making her incapable of being indifferent to the girl in front of her.

  
  


Josie’s eyes glaze over and she licks her lips and Hope’s eyes stick like cement to the movement. The taller girl becomes upset at Hope’s words and she pushes the girl, two arms on her shoulders, when Hope gets too close. “I c-can’t give you anything, you know that.”

  
  


Josie’s words stumble out of her mouth like a mess, falling all over each other like dominoes. They tumble out as an earthquake starts, shaken to the core and a result of dangerous circumstances.

  
  


“What do you call last Friday, then?” Hope brings up their kiss, remembering everything, unable to banish anything from her mind like Josie had asked. A memory comes to the forefront of Hope’s head: there, there, there.

  
  


Josie blinks, possibly remembering just as much as Hope is—perhaps images are _also_ swarming her mind, wrapping her thoughts in nice gift boxes.

  
  


“I just needed to get it out of my system,” she says, her shoulders noticeably rising every time she inhales. Her voice is breathy—racy—and it hurts Hope and drives her crazy all the same. Hope’s head pounds, filling with dizziness at each blow, occurring whenever Josie speaks. The blue-eyed girl knows it’s a lie, she can see it in the way Josie can’t meet her eyes. However, her discouraged mind can’t help but to believe it.

  
  


“Did you?” The blue-eyed girl asks, hesitating to say much of anything else and definitely not wanting to embarrass herself any further. It’s a question that begs the brunette to say more, to not do this.

  
  


“Yeah,” Josie says, but it comes out more as a whimper. Something regrettable. Hope immediately backs away and the air turns cold around them—Josie’s words freezing the two, putting out any fire. Ten seconds pass by. Ten seconds to justify their conversation and ten seconds for Hope to respond.

  
  


“I’ll leave you alone, then.” It’s stoic and detached, it helps to unglue Hope’s heart from her sleeve. She turns around and grabs a hoodie from the chair next to her desk.

  
  


Hope walks out of the dorm, not even waiting for Josie to respond. Hope knows the girl wasn’t going to anyways. Hope has never been more disappointed, but she expected it all.

  
  


It’s a Saturday night, and there’s so much more to do then sit and be miserable. The sun has just set, and the girl walks over to her friend Maya’s dormitory.

  
  


She composes herself, checking her face through her phone’s camera and then knocks on the door. After the third knock, Maya opens the door and Hope brightens visibly in relief. She surely would’ve punched Penelope if the girl had answered. Hope smiles, slightly waving her hand.

  
  


“Hey! What are you doing here?” Maya asks, in large breaths, and the shorter girl notices that Maya looks a little disheveled and her clothes are rumpled. She cringes in realization.

  
  


“Oh my god, who’s in there?” Hope whispers, her eyes widening in shock.

  
  


“Shh!” Maya puts a finger to the girl’s lips and then pulls her farther outside, closing the door behind them. “It’s this guy I met at the party.”

  
  


“Well, don’t let _me_ get in the way,” Hope half smirks, basically throwing her friend back into her dorm, despite her own problems. They high-five and Hope hops back outside, in the same predicament as earlier. 

  
  


She goes to her car and sits in the front seat, turning the radio up. Hope texts all of her friends—minus Maya—and Sebastian is the only one who replies. He meets her in the parking lot and they decide to go watch a movie together.

  
  


They pick a comedy—Hope is in a mood and Sebastian knows not to push it. 

  
  


They buy a few snacks and as Sebastian is filling up his drink, Hope can’t help but ask, “Is Lizzie okay with this?” 

  
  


Sebastian puts a straw in his drink and turns towards the girl, “What do you mean?” He looks around the room and finds that the whole movie theater is empty and there’s only a few people here. It isn’t that late, though. 

  
  


“Okay with me, like, as your friend?” Hope says, unsure of how to word it. She hesitates even asking it, but wonders why Lizzie doesn’t seem to hate her as much as her twin sister does.

  
  


“I’m not sure,” he shrugs, putting his phone in his pocket so he can carry his drink easier. They start to walk towards the specific section where their movie is playing, “But I think she likes you. She doesn’t seem upset, or whatever, at you at all.” Hope nods at his statement, her eyes starting to adjust to the darkness of the room.

  
  


“That’s so weird,” she murmurs, stuck on the thought. Why doesn’t Lizzie loathe her with the equivalent of Josie’s own emotion?

  
  


“Why so?” he whispers, although there really isn’t anyone else near them. They seem to have the movie theater to themselves.

  
  


“It’s just—” Hope stops herself before she can go further. She doesn’t want to trouble her friend with her problems, especially if it’s about his girlfriend and his girlfriend’s sister. Hope smiles, shaking her head, “Nevermind.”

  
  


“You can tell me, Hope,” he takes a seat next to her, setting his drink down on the cup holder. “I understand I’m no Maya, but that doesn’t mean I’m any less able to listen.” His accent is precisely him and even in a normal conversation he sounds proper and old-fashioned.

  
  


“I know, I just don’t want to bother you with it,” she responds, putting her legs up on the chair in front of her. She shifts in her chair before turning her attention towards the movie previews.

  
  


“I mean, she asked me if you and Sam were dating,” Sebastian says nonchalantly, the remark coming out of nowhere, causing Hope to do a double-take. He’s wearing a smug smile, but Hope can’t see it from where her attention is focused.

  
  


“She what?!” Hope almost sits up in her chair, and turns to him violently, an alarmed look reaching her face. “What’d you say?” Hope just about screams, pushing him on the shoulder.

  
“I told her that I didn’t know and then changed the subject,” he recalls, a little grin attached to his face. He meets Hope’s panicked eyes, “It was after you called that ridiculous friend meeting…” He shakes his head with the thought of it, deflating his shoulders in annoyance. 

  
  


“And you didn’t think to tell me this?” Hope sarcastically looks to her arm—checking a watch that isn’t there—and mutters, “...A week ago?!” 

  
  


“You’ve barely been talking to anyone this whole week,” he glances back at the screen, making sure the lights haven’t fully dimmed yet. Sebastian loves to watch movies—in silence—Hope has learned. She wants to make fun of him for not caring about movies when he’s with Lizzie, but chooses against it. “What was I supposed to do? Knock on your door and tell you everything? There wasn’t a good time for it.” 

  
  


“Okay fine, but she’s already suspicious enough—”

  
  


“Suspicious of what?” He looks pointedly at his friend and when Hope turns silent, he raises his eyebrows. “Exactly.” The blue-eyed girl feels like she’s getting berated and reprimanded like an infant. Before the lights fully dim after the last preview, Hope hears one last sentence fall from his mouth, “I know it seems like I might not know anything, but I do and whatever’s going on between you and Lizzie’s sister isn’t healthy, Hope.”

  
  


-

  
  


The car ride home is silent. Both Sebastian and Hope are incredibly tired and it’s well near midnight. The movie was—admittedly—a little funny, but Hope also had a hard time paying attention to it. Other things were crowding her mind, instead. 

  
  


She drops Sebastian off and parks in the campus lot. She sneaks back onto the campus, across the quad, and begrudgingly heads back to her own room. Hope sees a light emitting from underneath her door so she knows Josie is probably still awake. The girl exhales heavily before stepping inside, hoping Josie just doesn’t do or say anything.

  
  


As she comes in, Hope feels her roommate’s stare like knives, cutting into her skin and bleeding right into her. Hope tries to ignore it, settling to charge her phone and organize the blankets on her bed.

  
  


Hope feels an immense relief at the silence between them, but it’s broken two minutes later when she hears Josie speak, “I’m sorry.” It causes Hope to finally look at the girl and when she does, the shorter girl can’t help but feel sort of bad. Josie’s hair is wet and her face looks more than distressed—a deep pout is on her lips and her jaw is set.

  
  


Despite it, Hope remains indifferent. “For?” she asks, acting like nothing has happened but simultaneously hoping that Josie will confront their feelings and confess. She knows the brunette won’t when she sees that she looks taken aback at the question—taken aback by Hope’s tone.

  
  


“I didn’t think I’d get this far,” Josie mumbles, a little sheepish. She completely dodges Hope’s question. Her voice is small and Hope suddenly wishes the girl facing her just didn’t say anything in the first place. Silence would’ve been better than this. Hope thinks she’s messing with her and it starts to make her blood boil.

  
  


Hope shakes her head. Unbelievable.

  
  


The blue-eyed girl gets in her sheets and turns away, facing her wall. She promised she’d leave the girl alone, and that’s what she’s going to do. She closes her eyes and tells her roommate, casually with little to no feeling, “Turn off the lights when you get a chance, please.”


	17. Chapter 17

Sunday morning comes bright and early for Hope Mikaelson. There’s a denseness in her chest the second she wakes up, and she feels the way it pulls against her lungs for minutes on end. She hasn’t had one of these days in a while—a day where she remembers her parents’ death all too vividly—and the Josie situation doesn’t help to lessen the pain.

  
  


To think about it, Josie, lately, has almost been a distraction away from the grief. Not today, though.

  
  


She tries to blink away the feeling, getting up quickly and making her way to the bathroom. Hope decides to go on a run since she’s up early. The other explanation is more obvious: she doesn’t want to be here when Josie wakes up. Hope usually doesn’t wake up this early unless she’s forced to—like yesterday when Josie woke her up so horribly.

  
  


But with this feeling in her chest—this denseness—she knows immediately how to make it go away. How to forget. Hope’s been through this before. She just needs to go on a run and distract herself. That’s it. 

  
  


She dresses in leggings and a long-sleeve shirt, pulling her hair in a ponytail. Although it’s seemingly bright outside, it’s also cold and the sun does nothing to depart the clouds.

  
  


She closes the door silently behind her and locks it, moving over to the quad area to stretch. The girl shuffles her music and then takes off, desperately trying to keep the accident the farthest thought from her mind.

  
  


Hope runs for about two hours, stopping and starting—forgetting and remembering. Even though the girl is rather athletic, the constant ground helps. There’s no uphill or downhill and the conditions make it easier on Hope’s legs. She used to run everyday but the hobby became almost nonexistent after the summer, when college had started.

  
  


She returns back to the school, grabbing a few water bottles near the dining hall, and then arrives back at her dorm. She enters her room, hesitantly and with slow feet. Through the opening of the door, Josie is awake, laying down on her bed and on her phone. Hope doesn’t offer any greeting and figures to take a shower. 

  
  


She grabs some clothes, and hears a curious voice from across the room, “Hey, uh, where’d you go?” It makes her heart expand and then diminish, surfacing smaller than before. Josie sounds like a breath of fresh air, but the morning has only offered Hope the choice to be abused by pollution. It sinks in her skin and lights up her feelings like fire, heightening her anger and leaving smoke in the pores.

  
  


_Like you care_.

  
  


A witty statement climbs up her throat, but before it can materialize she swallows it back down. It upsets Hope because she’s supposed to be leaving the girl alone, she’s supposed to be left alone herself.

  
  


Hope shuts the drawer shut, loudly, and makes her way into the bathroom, not allowing her roommate to ignore yesterday with a civil question. The auburn-haired girl turns the shower-head on, hoping the hot water would flood the heavy feeling still in her chest and perhaps overwhelm it. She breathes in the warm air, but it seems to make everything worse.

  
  


The dull ache becomes even more burdensome. The run didn’t truly help at all. Not like she thought it had. Every time she breathes in, it becomes harder to exhale and she isn’t sure if this is a panic attack or borderline agony from the past few months—the agony of everything that’s happened to her.

  
  


She closes her eyes and tries to imagine something else, anything else. A picture drops into her head like an anvil. It’s familiar brown eyes and brown hair. It’s familiar long legs and pouty lips. It’s familiar everything, and Hope feels almost ashamed at her new shower thoughts. 

  
  


The girl _is_ in the other room. 

  
  


Her thoughts aren’t that sexual but they aren’t that innocent either—nothing about her feelings for Josie are innocent. It’s a welcomed intrusion from her previous thoughts, however. Hope ultimately decides that picturing the brunette is better than picturing what has happened with the brunette. Ignorance is a beautiful thing, the girl has learned. Even though it often catches up to Hope, it’s a wave that continues to spill over her mind, collecting the girl’s anguish—and leaving the burden to the shore.

  
  


Hope hears a knock, and then another knock. The knocks become more rapid in succession and it snaps the girl out of her daze. “Are you in there? It’s been almost an hour...Is everything good?” Josie asks, a worried but composed tone attached to her voice. Hope turns off the water.

  
  


_An hour?_

  
  


Had it really been that long? The blue-eyed girl freezes, feeling cold and worse than before. Josie’s fake compassion isn’t making anything better as well. Why is Josie acting like this? It’s only making Hope more upset—

  
  


More confused—

  
  


More miserable—

  
  


Hope breathes and the exhale is raspy and wet. She hadn’t noticed the tears fall down her face. Her throat had felt fine. She isn’t crying. Right?

  
  


“Uh, Hope?” Josie eggs on and Hope pushes back the curtains, able to see Josie’s shadow underneath the door. Hope clears her throat once.

  
  


Twice. 

  
  


As she feels her own will come back to her, she whispers to test out her voice. When she knows it won’t crack or cut off, she all but shouts, “Do me a favor, and _fuck_ off.” Her words are rid of any sadness, replaced only with hints of annoyance. Hope means all the harm by it and hopes her roommate just gets the clue and stops. Why is Josie making this harder? 

  
  


The girl doesn’t hear anything in return so she sighs, turning the water back on to finish her shower.

  
  


The rest of the day she ignores Josie, plugging in her earbuds and resting on her bed. She can feel Josie’s stare on her and it’s irritating and merciless. Hope knows that the girl is just trying to draw her attention, but she won’t let it happen. Josie leaves half-way in the day and Hope pretends that the girl’s absence doesn’t hurt.

  
  


-

  
  


On Monday, Hope’s art lecture is actually interesting. The professor plays a video for the whole duration of class and Hope doesn’t even get the urge to glance at her phone. It’s a historical background informational video, which would usually be fairly boring, but Hope is surprised to see that it isn’t. 

  
  


The lecture ends when the professor dismisses them and Hope sees Landon trying to catch up with her. She pauses momentarily to let him do so and they walk across the dining hall together. 

  
  


“Hey, did you hear about the tailgate on Friday?” The boy asks, his fingers wrapped around the straps of his backpack. He looks nervous and he’s biting his lip as so.

  
  


“Yeah, Maya told me about it earlier,” Hope says, glancing around the room as they walk together. She’s kind of hungry but at the same time doesn’t really have energy to get food. She notices a lot of students are staring at her and it makes her feel awkward and less than confident. 

  
  


Landon seems almost relieved at her answer, like he doesn’t have to gather the balls to invite her himself, “Oh, great. So, are you going?” The pair step outside and Hope heads in the direction of her dorm, the boy following along beside her.

  
  


“I don’t know. I’m not really, like, sure about it,” Hope digs her fingernails in her palm anxiously, locking eyes with the boy by fully turning her head to actually get a look at him. He’s wearing a fitted t-shirt and ripped pants at the knees and there’s a bead of sweat across his forehead.

  
  


“What’s not to be sure about it?” The curly-haired boy laughs—hesitantly—and runs his hand down his scalp, pulling at his own hair. Hope shrugs, unsure of what to tell him. She pauses, feeling the brightness of the sun draw away. A cooler air stretches across the pavement and it provides relief to Hope’s burning, sensitive skin.

  
  


“I just don’t think it’s a good idea right now,” she blanks as they arrive at her door. They stop in front of it and Hope flexes her back, standing up straighter than before.

  
  


_I’d rather sit home and be sad_. 

  
  


“Why?” He questions, saying it with a calm smile. He leans his hand against the door, towering over her much like at the party a week ago. 

  
  


“Nosy, much?” A grin also pulls across the shorter girl’s face, humoring him.

  
  


“Fine,” he downcasts, looking to the floor. His smile widens and shows in the crinkle of his eyes. He pauses, looking Hope directly in the eye. “But anyways, you should go.”

  
  


“I’ll think about it,” Hope utters, just as the door falls open—Josie behind it. It causes Landon to lose his balance, for a moment, but he recovers and eyes the door, turning his attention towards his other, more familiar friend. 

  
  


Although Landon and her haven’t really talked since they first met, she still remembers the boy—hell, she has basically watched him grow up—enough to recognize him the first night of orientation. Hope suddenly thinks about the moment when they had first met. It was a company party full of wine and theatrics and Hope had just been told to go upstairs by her parents. She was seven and remembers it modestly as some pieces didn’t quite fit together. 

  
  


_“Love, let’s go upstairs to your room,” her father tells her, carrying the girl by her underarms. He lifts Hope on his shoulder, making his way across the room as he passes different people. Her father stops every two seconds, greeting people and smiling._

  
  


_“I wanna stay with you, Daddy,” Hope mumbles into his shoulder, tears already starting to fall down her cheeks. She hangs on to him tighter._

  
  


_“My littlest one, don’t cry,” he pats her back, placing her down next to him. He’s about to walk her upstairs, hand-in-hand, when someone interrupts them._

  
  


_“Mr. Mikaelson? Someone needs to talk to you privately outside,” the older man speaks up, his hands behind his back in a professional manner. He looks like he regrets having said anything in the first place as Hope’s father pulls a face._

  
  


_“Can it wait?” He mumbles, gesturing to his daughter. His eyebrows are raised and he tucks down his bow-tie, fixing it straight. He casts a smile to his daughter, who lights up in return._

  
  


_The man shakes his head, “Sorry, sir.” He looks behind him, as if someone’s waiting for the two of them, and then turns his attention back to the conversation._

  
  


_Klaus Mikaelson sighs._

  
  


_“Wait here on this step,” he sits his daughter down on the third step of the stairs and then pats her on the head. “I’ll be back.” He kisses her on the forehead and then on the cheek. Hope watches as her father follows the man out on the patio and doesn’t turn back once. She plays with the luxurious carpet, toying and pulling at the fibers anxiously._

  
  


_When Klaus Mikaelson comes back, ten minutes later, he looks upset and even angered. A small boy is accompanying him and Hope notices how the boy also looks shaky._

  
  


_“Love, this is Landon,” her father introduces the two and Hope nods her head, still sitting down. She’s confused but accepts it and knows not to upset her father further._

  
  


_“Hi,” Hope waves her hand, a shy smile on her lips. The young boy waves back and Hope thinks that the boy must be her age as well. Her mother joins them and her parents share a look. Her dad nods at her mother and Hope finds she, as well, looks concerned. The little girl becomes more confused._

  
  


_“You two can play upstairs. Be nice with each other. Okay?” Her mom nods, and the two laugh and start to head upstairs. They play with building bricks out near the stairs on the second level, but Hope can’t bring herself to do much else—like talk to the boy. She’s too concerned with what’s going on below._

  
  


_The girl watches from above and finds herself curiously looking over her parents and wondering why they look so...uneasy. Does it have to do with the curly-headed boy in front of her?_

  
  


Hope is immediately pulled out of it when her roommate blurts a phrase of words next to her. The shorter girl has to force herself not to roll her eyes. This girl is _everywhere._

  
  


“Think about what?” Josie pops her head out and Hope doesn’t know if the girl was just about to leave—she’s carrying a schoolbag—or if she’s just intruding on their conversation, like she’s been overhearing it the whole time. Josie tilts her head, glancing between the two. There’s a look in her eyes, a look that dances across her forehead and expresses itself between her eyebrows.

  
  


Hope exhales, pushing past the door and Josie. The brunette pouts in turn, her face visibly deflating, and Hope recognizes the utter look of sadness in the girl’s face. It hangs up a huge sign in Hope’s head to _do_ something, to acknowledge Josie, to greet Josie. But she knows better. She can’t trust Josie. She can’t even talk to Josie.

  
  


The blue-eyed girl turns around once more to meet Landon’s eyes, bidding him goodbye. She tells him, “I’ll see you later.” 

  
  


She smiles whole-heartedly just to spite Josie and then enters her dorm. She closes the door behind her, basically pushing Josie onto the doormat outside. Hope has half a mind to lock the door, so Josie can’t come back. But she doesn’t. 

  
  


Hope can hear the two talk outside but doesn’t bother to eavesdrop. Josie’s voice is louder than usual—like she’s yelling—and even though Hope can’t distinguish the words, she knows Josie sounds irritated or something. She digs through her drawers, looking for a hoodie to wear. Maya, earlier in the day, invited her over to play card games with their friend group. She finds one, tosses it on, and leaves her backpack on her bed. 

  
  


She splashes water on her face to refresh herself and then slides out of the bathroom, headed to leave. Josie still hasn’t come back inside and it seems as though Landon and her are still talking heatedly. Hope decides not to particularly acknowledge it, opening the door and gliding past the two. Josie pauses, stopping her mouth from uttering any more words and it seems as though Landon has fallen victim to the same curse.

  
  


Hope blinks, puzzled, but continues to move. 

  
  


_Huh. Weird._

  
  


She slows down her hurried pace and if anyone asks her why, it’s definitely not so she can stay within earshot of Josie’s voice. It’s not.

  
  


Hope doesn’t end up hearing much of anything, anyways. She turns the corner of the dormitory hall and makes her way to Maya’s room, where everyone had decided to meet a few hours ago. The rest of the night is pretty entertaining for Hope.

  
  


Tuesday and Wednesday pass by quickly, the seconds only slower where Josie’s involved. It helps that Hope hasn’t seen much of the girl. Actually, Hope has, but she’s just been busy avoiding and completely ignoring her roommate. It seems like Josie is everywhere—right wherever Hope is. 

  
  


If Hope walks in the quad, Josie is there laughing and talking with her friends. If the shorter girl returns to her dorm, Josie is there. It’s like she’s following Hope, driving her mad on purpose, trying to make it harder for Hope to leave the girl alone. The blue-eyed girl just needs a distraction. She doesn’t need _this_.

  
  


Thursday is another _bad_ day for Hope. She has three classes, so the day goes by agonizingly slow. This time, she actually tells Maya about it. By the end of her third class, her friend is there—waiting for her. 

  
  


It comes to a complete surprise to Hope, “Uh...what are you doing here?” Hope wonders how Maya knows where she is, she hadn’t told her about her classes at all.

  
  


“Just wanted to cheer you up,” she smiles, leaning against the wall with her back. 

  
  


“Do you have my schedule or something?” Hope throws a weird look at her friend, putting her book from her class in her backpack.

  
  


“I know some people,” she says deviously, smiling hard to the point where her cheeks pull up to her eyes. Hope grows _very_ suspicious. Maya smirks, “How do you think you got room’d with the devil?”

  
  


It takes Hope a second to register the words, her mind unable to understand Maya could do something like that.

  
  


“Wait. What?” Hope frowns, absolutely seething. A death glare falls from her eyes, leeching onto Maya’s skin. “You did...WHAT?” The girl feels some sort of betrayal crawl throughout her, leaving bouts of pain and anger wherever it goes. It tazers her like lightning, depleting Hope of any trust left in her body. Hope looks down. Could this day get any worse?

  
  


“Don’t act so upset,” Maya shrugs. She then states in a very matter-of-fact and calm manner, “You should be thanking me.” Hope wants to kill her.

  
  


“You’re joking,” Hope spits out, incredulous. “You don’t have that much power here.” She shakes her head, not allowing herself to get over the shock.

  
  


“Should I take any offense to that?” The brunette scowls, her smile falling off of her face in a mere millisecond. She crosses her arms in front of her chest.

  
  


“Yes, you should.”

  
  


A moment passes between them and Maya panics. Hope doesn’t think that Maya knows how mad she actually is. It takes a minute for it to register in Maya’s own understanding.

  
  


“Look, Hope. I really didn’t do anything,” Maya says rather desperately, trying to get her friend to look at her. Hope’s eyes seem to be towards a permanent direction—anywhere but Maya. The brunette explains herself, “I simply asked, but my friend told me that you guys were already roommates. I didn’t do anything.”

  
  


“You’re saying that to redeem yourself,” Hope counters, feeling her trust for almost everyone slither away quickly like a damn snake. “Don’t.” She starts to walk away from Maya, but the girl pulls her back instantly.

  
  


“No, I’m not. I brought it up as a joke,” Maya is now almost frantic, like this wasn’t how she had planned for things to go. “I’m completely serious.” They lock eyes and Hope nods, feeling like she’s just overreacted again. Hope feels she has her father’s temper, but ten times worse.

  
  


“Are you okay?” Maya wonders, pulling Hope closer to her. “Why were you so hurt about it?”

  
  


It makes Hope feel tremendously guilty for a reason she can’t place. She pulls away from their mini side-hug and wipes at a tear that isn’t there. “I just haven’t been feeling well.” Her answers are vague like they always are. Hope doesn’t like to talk about herself, she doesn’t like to share her own feelings. The only reason Maya knows anything is because the girl confronts Hope about everything, every single time.

  
  


And every single time, she happens to get whatever piece of information she wants from Hope.

  
  


“Talk to me,” Maya pleads as they begin to walk to Maya’s car. Hope doesn’t even know why she’s following the girl. She doesn’t even know where they’re going.

  
  


“There’s nothing to say,” Hope recalls, an impassivity to her face like never before. Her emotions are likened to an up-and-down cycle and the past year, it’s been lethal to any true expression of hers.

  
  


“Then why are you acting like this? Huh?” Her friend asks, trying to get some response. “Whenever we talk about anything _real_ , you shut off. I don’t think that’s good for you. At all.” Maya gets in the driver’s seat, accompanied by Hope next to her. By the way she hesitates, Hope knows the girl is talking about her parents.

  
  


“I don’t think you understand, Maya,” Hope sighs, moving her seat back by the lever. She throws her backpack behind her and then closes her eyes, resting for a moment.

  
  


Maya seems to get upset at that, “What do you mean, I don’t understand? I’ve been living with it for months. You’re my best friend.” She pulls out of the parking lot and drives in an eastward direction, going onto the freeway.

  
  


“Then what do you want?” Hope’s voice turns small, but it still resounds throughout the car. Maya has yet to play music or turn on the radio.

  
  


“I just want you to get better—to be better,” Maya finally voices her thoughts and the words make Hope nauseous. She hates it so much. She just wants Maya to stop this.

  
  


“I’m fine. You have to stop acting like I’m damaged goods or something,” Hope looks outside the window. Her surroundings are completely unfamiliar to her and Hope wonders if Maya is taking her out to kill her or is forcing her to do something else.

  
  


“Only if you stop acting like it first,” Maya remarks and glances at the girl, turning to look at her pointedly. They pull into a shopping center and Hope only recognizes a few fast food places. “This is just getting pathetic to look at. Really.”

  
  


“Screw you,” Hope bites, frowning and moving to lay back onto her seat. She says it like a little child, who has just learned how to cuss, and thinks screw is a really, really bad word.

  
  


“See? Whenever I try talking about anything, you insult me,” Maya proves, raising her eyebrows like she’s won. She pulls into a spot and then parks, turning off the car. 

  
  


Hope ignores her, “Where are we?” They walk into the store together, but the place really isn’t that definitive and the best Hope can take from it is that it looks like an escape room venue or something.

  
  


Maya only smiles, “You’ll see.” She walks up to the counter, not bothering to stand in line since the place is near empty. The sun has just set outside. “Hi, can we have your third package? For two?” She questions and the employee nods her head, greeting them both and then handing Maya a receipt for her purchase.

  
  


The employee leads the two of them to a room and hands them protective gear. When she leaves, Maya clarifies, “We’re gonna be smashing shit all night!” 

  
  


“What for?” Hope looks around the room. There’s several plates, a few jackhammers, and other breakable items. 

  
  


“It’s either this or writing in a journal, sis,” Maya counts out the options on her fingers, although she doesn’t need to. Hope spares her a skeptical look, which prompts Maya to continue, “I was thinking about getting you a therapist...but ultimately thought you’d kill him or her, so no.”

  
  


“I regret telling you anything,” Hope folds her arms out in front of her, rocking back and forth tirelessly. Hope knew it was just better not to speak about her _bad_ days.

  
  


“Stop. I know you don’t need to do any of this. I mean you’re handling everything pretty fine, considering…” Maya looks around—at nothing—and clears her throat before continuing. “I just thought it’d be fun.” She smiles genuinely and it’s the first time Hope decides to smile back today.

  
  


The pair spend almost two hours tearing apart random shit and Hope knows she’ll have to pay Maya back for the endless stuff they’ve destroyed. A hundred-inch TV? Was that really necessary? Hope definitely regrets that one. 

  
  


When Hope returns back to her dorm room, she first walks in slowly, hoping that Josie doesn’t confront her or anything. Hope doesn’t face her or turn to look at her and she sneaks into the shower—which is incredibly cold. She takes her shower in record time, changing into comfortable plaid pajama pants and a hoodie.

  
  


Her hair sticks to her face messily and she brushes it out, leaving water droplets all over the floor. When she’s finished, she opens the door and immediately her stomach jumps and her mind evacuates from her body, like a fire drill from her old highschool days. 

  
  


Josie is sitting—her legs criss-crossed—in the center of _her_ bed.

  
  


Wearing _her_ hoodie. 

  
  


The one that hasn’t been returned for at least a week.

  
  


There’s a look on her face, a determined and proud look, and Hope wonders what the _fuck_ she has to be proud about. It’s completely menacing. The image causes Hope to want to run, and she would run, if her feet could actually move. She stays in her spot—a step outside of the bathroom—unsure of what to do.

  
  


“W-what are you doing?” Hope says, feeling panicked but not truly showing it. Her words are capable enough to display some resilience and Hope is glad her question doesn’t come out timid. Hope swallows, but nothing moves past her throat.

  
  


“I thought I’d join in on the fun,” Josie smiles and Hope thinks she’s never seen the girl so mischievous and intense before. Hope watches as Josie places her hands behind her head, lying down like someone who’s about to tan in the summer heat. It’s _very_ casual.

  
  


It’s also completely unsettling.

  
  


Josie smirks slightly, shrugging. She looks deep in thought, however, and worries her lip in between her teeth, causing something to pool low in Hope’s abdomen—an immediate reaction to the behavior. 

  
  


Hope narrows her eyes and steps forward, trying to ignore the obvious feeling in her gut. She swallows and this time her throat allows it, bobbing harshly. “What fun?” 

  
  


“You know,” she shrugs again. Hope still feels awkward, standing in the middle of the room, doing nothing but looking at the girl. Josie eyes her for a long time, and then states, “Payback.” 

  
  


_What?_

  
  


At Hope’s confused look, Josie continues, emphasizing her words clearly, “I mean, you’re obviously trying to get back at me for something.” She sits up from her previous position and her eyes never seem to falter, never seem to look away from Hope’s own.

  
  


They feel like needles, puncturing into Hope’s mind—using her eyes as entrance. The auburn-haired girl feels vulnerable and Josie doesn’t seem like she cares. She’s sitting somewhat carelessly, but talking with so much emotion and...sensuality. 

  
  


Hope tries not to feel so attracted.

  
  


“And how am I doing that?” Hope finally overcomes her stubbornness, allowing herself to actually say something meaningful. She wonders how Josie can act like this all of a sudden. Did the girl finally have enough of being ignored? Does she finally feel how Hope feels?

  
  


Tormented?

  
  


Agonized?

  
  


“Easy,” Josie chuckles, but her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. She tugs on the strings of Hope’s hoodie and Hope traces the movement with her eyes, “You’re ignoring me.” Josie pats down Hope’s sheets and leaves her hands in her lap. 

  
  


Hope sits on her desk chair, feeling her legs start to wobble.

  
  


_Why do I feel this dizzy_?

  
  


“Then I should remind you,” Hope glances at the floor slowly and then carries her eyes up with as much dignity. She tries not to cower at the intensity in Josie’s eyes. “You wanted this.”

  
  


Josie seems almost angered at Hope’s accusation, “I didn’t.” She inhales and Hope swears that she can see the air as it fills her chest. The brunette opens her mouth, but closes it quickly, not uttering anything else.

  
  


“Then tell me,” Hope says, wanting to know more. She wants _something_ so bad. “What did you want me to do?” The girl in front of her shrinks, and Hope knows she shouldn’t have asked so.

  
  


“What did you want when you told me _not_ to forget about our kis—”

  
  


Hope stops herself before she can even say the word. It seems forbidden. She still feels obligated to hide it, to pretend it never happened even when it’s only the two of them here—tucked behind closed doors, frozen under ice.

  
  


She shakes her head, trying again, reiterating the same old question, “Or how about when you told me you didn’t care? What did you want then?” It feels like a blanket statement—useless and going nowhere. Hope stands up from her chair, running her hand through her wet hair. It’s refreshing and cools her from the warmth between them.

  
  


She feels her hands like sweat and the air isn’t any less boiling.

  
  


Silence passes between them, waving as it walks. Hope wants to laugh. “See? You don’t even want to talk.” The blue-eyed girl glances at her phone on the nightstand, like a reflex, and then sets her eyes back on Josie. “You’re only upset because I’m not paying you any attention.”

  
  


“That’s not true,” Josie mutters, and Hope doesn’t know why the girl continues to sound so speechless. Josie had started this. She had been the one to sit herself on Hope’s bed, acting like the fucking Queen of England. 

  
  


“Why are you on my bed then?” Hope bites, just about to walk out and never come back. She can fare just as well on some other campus. She can. 

  
  


“Because...” Josie starts and her face looks so torn that it drives Hope insane. It’s such a change from earlier—the more confident Josie, the cocky Josie—that Hope wants to die from laughter, she wants to grin and scream and—

  
  


“Because I can’t—” Josie’s sentence gets cut short as her mouth closes and no words are able to reach past her teeth. She stands up from the bed and paces back and forth.

  
  


Hope watches in wait. She waits for something. Anything.

  
  


Nothing.

  
  


“Just go to sleep,” Hope finally says, after the quiet becomes too deafening to her ears. She tries to work out their situation, despite her own heart, “In the morning, I’ll talk to the officers and tell them to switch us—”

  
  


Josie’s head snaps up, a new type of hurt in her eyes. She reaches her hand out in front of Hope, to maybe will the girl to stop talking, before blurting out, “—I can’t stop thinking about you.” 

  
  


The words slide heavy against Josie’s tongue, and it seems like she’s in denial about it. She hastily shakes her head like the words are bound to cause her pain, like she didn’t want to say them. But, it’s a confession and it provides relief to Hope’s ears, like water coming out of a plugged ear after a long day of swimming. 

  
  


The way she says it, though, plugs Hope’s ears back up—forcing water back in, drowning her. Why does the girl sound so upset? Why does Josie sound so troubled about it?

  
  


“But you’re you,” the girl laughs, a bitter smile on her face. Hope scowls, feeling mildly offended. What is _that_ supposed to mean? 

  
  


“You aren’t so great either,” Hope remarks, although Josie really hasn’t clarified her sentence. Hope knows she isn’t understanding, but can’t help but still be upset about it.

  
  


“No, I mean,” Josie looks up finally, tearing her gaze off the floor. Her eyes are glazed over in wetness and she blinks it away. “You’re _you_.”

  
  


“Oh.” Hope had almost forgotten. She had almost forgotten about Alaric Saltzman, her father, and their families’ circumstances. Hope runs a hand through her hair, in misery all over again.

  
  


Oh, how easy it is to forget when Josie Saltzman is in front of her like this. It’s so easy to forget. 

  
  


So, _so_ easy. 


	18. Chapter 18

Their situation sucks. There’s no way to say it more plainly. It just does. Forgetting all about it keeps the blue-eyed girl hopeful for more. Hopeful for a future.

  
  


But the reminder of it all makes Hope’s heart itch and the pain stays there—right under her skin and sitting in her bones like a vacation. It’s a kind of pain that one resists. A kind of pain that Hope won’t recognize because false hope hangs across her eyebrows, dangling down her face.

  
  


One that Hope can’t allow, because it would mean more pain. More and more and more torture.

  
  


Hope wants to forget about her parents. She wants to forget about the company and she wishes she was never put into this situation. She feels like an animal put up to slaughter, an inevitable death. 

  
  


She wants to tell Josie to forget, too. There’s only a few feet of distance between them, pleading to be closed. Hope wonders how close she can get before Josie will push her away again. However, there are other questions on her mind and these questions eat at her, leaving nothing, drinking at her will to let them be.

  
  


_You’re you._

  
  


“I know,” Hope puffs. Her head spins in circles, not quite sure what to land on, what to say first. She manages the words, repeating herself, “God, do I know.” 

  
  


“Then you understand,” Josie says and she seems better than earlier, Hope notices. Josie looks almost refreshed, like she’s thrown a boulder off of her chest, and yelled _fuck you_ at it as it went tumbling down a hill. She doesn’t look as tormented, and her face is now relaxed. The girl’s eyes also aren’t glossy anymore, but the intensity in them still remains. Alive and well. 

  
  


“I don’t,” Hope shakes her head once, begging Josie to make it crystal clear. She wishes the brunette would talk more, she’s itching to hear her voice. A few words here and then aren’t enough for Hope. Josie is always brief somehow, and the brevity feels like treachery to Hope’s tired tongue. “Explain it to me.”

  
  


“If my family knows or even picks up on it,” Josie’s head falls into her hands, perhaps frustrated at having to clarify. Perhaps embarrassed at having to justify herself. “I’m dead and then you’re dead—” Josie pauses to laugh, but the sound is regretful and melancholic.

  
  


“—Or you’re dead and then I’m dead.”

  
  


Josie’s tone sounds too fraudulent in Hope’s ears and Hope hates how easily she can pick up on it. It’s as if Josie is a song, and Hope knows exactly which part to skip to—knows exactly which part to pay attention to. Josie sounds like she’s covering up something, using a joke to give Hope the wrong idea.

  
  


Josie’s two-second-laughter dies out almost immediately as their eyes meet.

  
  


“I don’t think that’s the real reason,” Hope says, a little distantly. Josie’s eyes wrap around her dangerously and Hope picks up her laundry, just so she can have something to do. She folds a few t-shirts and the silence stretches her out thin. “I think you don’t care about that stuff at all.”

  
  


Josie licks her lips and Hope sees the way her throat bobs up, causing the brunette in front of her to clear her throat. The auburn-haired girl turns away, tossing her newly-folded clothes in her drawer, a slight smirk on her face.

  
  


“So tell me,” Hope continues, shutting her drawer and then leaning against it. She crosses her arms, folding them against her chest, “What’s really stopping you?” 

  
  


Josie exhales rather shakily—an inaudible but visible gasp—and her hands trace Hope’s blanket absentmindedly. She throws a pointed look at her roommate, and Hope figures out that Josie’s trying to ask her for sympathy. It’s a look that screams stop, but Hope isn’t one for understanding.

  
  


Josie smiles and tries to change the subject, “What’s stopping you?”

  
  


It doesn’t really work out for the girl because this conversation has really only been about _her_. A beat of silence slides between them and Hope answers a little too quickly.

  
  


“You,” she shrugs, taking a seat on her bed. It’s direct and Hope’s heart misses a beat on the one syllable. They’re only a foot apart now and Josie’s eyes slightly dilate at the admission. Hope takes a second, clearly annoyed, “I mean, you talk about your family hating mine, which is, I guess true, but why doesn’t Lizzie?”

  
  


At the mention of Lizzie, Josie turns her head quickly and Hope almost backs away at the act. Josie chuckles, a dark and bitter one, “She never learned to.” It’s a weird statement and the words illustrate resentment, but Hope is guessing it isn’t for her sister.

  
  


The two look like they love each other, anyways.

  
  


“What does _that_ mean?” Hope asks, and Josie’s jaw clenches noticeably and there’s a red flush splashed across her collarbone. Hope eye’s dip lower and when Josie raises an eyebrow, she looks somewhere else entirely.

  
  


“I don’t think I should tell you,” Josie stings, and Hope feels the bite a little too much. Josie puts her hands in her—Hope’s—hoodie’s pocket. Some of the anger in Josie’s face dissipates and she grins slightly, a remark falling off of her lips and warmly into Hope’s ears, “Might flip it back on me.”

  
  


“Who would I tell?” Hope asks, drawing unconsciously closer to the girl. She catches herself, scooting backwards conspicuously. Her heart beats dramatically and Hope wonders if Josie can see every beat as it bounces off of her chest. “And I haven’t been known to turn my back.”

  
  


“Is that an indirect?” Josie narrows her eyes at the girl in front of her and Hope swells at the image. It’s getting harder to breathe and Hope’s all too conscious of it. She inhales deeply and hopes it’s enough to last a minute.

  
  


“Is it?” Hope wonders, shrugging sarcastically. Her lips up-turn and she leans back, her back against the bed frame. She bunches up her legs, resting her head on her knees.

  
  


Josie smiles and the brightness shines off on Hope, lighting her up too. Josie debates something for a minute and then starts, “Fine.”

  
  


Josie’s smile falls off of her face, now only a distant memory flying off into the wind like a butterfly. Hope knows not to interrupt, so she lays down completely—making sure _not_ to touch Josie—and looks up to the ceiling. Josie shifts next to her, reaching for a pillow or something.

  
  


“Since she was really young, Lizzie had some, uh, mental problems,” Josie starts, her voice rough and a little emotional. She appears to swallow it, “I’m not gonna say more about that, but they were pretty bad, and she had these, like, episodes almost every day.” Hope thinks this is the most Josie has ever talked. Ever. It’s a lullaby to her ears, and Hope’s pretty sure she would’ve fallen asleep already if it weren’t for the topic. 

  
  


That’d be insensitive.

  
  


“—So my parents worried about her all the time. Taking her to therapy and making her stay on medication and in hospitals sometimes,” Josie shakes her head, and then a spiteful laugh spills from her mouth. “I’m pretty sure they were just trying to hide it from everyone or something. I think some people didn’t even know that my father _had_ a second child.”

  
  


There’s an exhaustive, resentful look in her face. Hope knows it without even watching her roommate. It’s in her voice and in the way the bed keeps shifting every two fucking seconds like Josie can’t stop moving.

  
  


“So I guess I never really saw my father during my childhood. You know, in between Lizzie and all of the business meetings and parties,” she says, and Hope tries not to pity the girl. Hope _does_ have a heart, but she also knows that Josie doesn’t want any condolences. “My nanny raised me mostly.”

  
  


“But anyways, uh…” Josie stops and the blue-eyed girl stays silent, hoping Josie doesn’t choose to end her story there. “They told Lizzie that she wasn’t obligated to be a part of the company. She can basically do whatever she wants.” She doesn’t continue after that, and Hope infers that Lizzie doesn’t really know anything about the whole family feuding situation.

  
  


Hope wants to comment on Josie’s childhood, but chooses against it. She figures the best thing to do, regarding topics, is to remain on the blonde, “Then why is she also doing business?” 

  
  


“We’re sisters. Best friends,” Josie says, as if it explains everything. A few minutes pass by and Hope feels her eyelids begin to fall and droop with weight. 

  
  


Hearing her own name snaps Hope out of her daze.

  
  


“Hope?”

  
  


The auburn-haired girl tries not to hold on to the thought that it’s the second time Josie has said her name. “Mhm?” She becomes energized all over again. 

  
  


“You asked me earlier…” Josie begins and Hope knows it’s probably a clue to sit up, so she does. She moves her hair to one side and pats it down. Josie’s forehead wrinkles before she hesitates, “...about what’s stopping me.” Her jaw tightens like an elastic band, the plasticity reaching its breaking point.

  
  


“I did.” Hope confirms, a little dumbly. A nod would’ve done the trick. She decides not to speak so she doesn’t say something even more stupid. 

  
  


“I think it’s because every time I look at you,” Josie’s eyebrows furrow, like she’s just come to the revelation herself. She pauses, like her next words are dreadful. “I see what happened to me earlier, happen to me all over again—”

  
  


“—a future of business meetings and I can’t have anything with you. You’re going to take over your dad’s company and I don’t think I can grow alongside that. I don’t want to be a part of that. I’m t-trying to move on and get away from it.”

  
  


Hope’s heart shatters in the curtness of two seconds and her mind slices into halves. She feels a familiar ache in her heart, but this time it’s about a thousand times worse. It’s a gash on her arm, a wire tied to her throat, a bullet to her brain. 

  
  


Hope’s eyes blank and Josie in front of her looks undecided and her hand is wavering—almost shaking—above her thigh. 

  
  


_A future_?

  
  


Josie is overthinking it. They don’t have to think about tomorrow. What happened to the now? The future is an excuse. It’s not concrete. The future doesn’t mean anything. Josie is holding on to excuses and uncertainty. Josie doesn’t know about anything in Hope’s life.

  
  


She doesn’t.

  
  


Hope becomes desperate, but words—nothing. Her mind scrambles for a solution, scrambles to prove something to Josie. She turns up dumbfounded and feels her bones break with the conciseness of how her vocal cords seem to snap out of her larynx. She scratches at her throat—an itch that really isn’t there.

  
  


Josie chuckles, but a tear runs down her cheek instead of joy, “But somehow, for some reason...I can’t stop looking at you.” The brunette’s cheeks flame red and Hope can’t tell why. Is it Josie’s rollercoaster of emotions? Part of Hope desires that the girl is blushing for _her_. 

  
  


At the admittance, Hope’s eyes widen but she tries to remain indiscernible, feeling already so exposed. Is it just Hope when Josie scoots a little closer? The blue-eyed girl’s mind jumps to so many conclusions. The girl’s eyes are so deluded, seeking out only what they want to see.

  
  


When Josie’s eyes dip down, Hope freezes. She feels so much more nervous than a second ago and the nervousness stops her heart. Stops everything. Hope’s own eyes accidentally flicker down and when they linger, it’s also an accident.

  
  


Just an accident. That’s all.

  
  


Josie’s lips are a heavy red color, like they’ve just been dipped in fruity chap-stick. Hope’s glance sticks to Josie’s upper lip and she notices wetness there. She wonders if it’s a tear or something else altogether and Hope licks her own lips with the desire to find out.

  
  


The brunette’s eyelids start to close—very slowly—and just as she starts to lean in, a buzzing sound scares Hope shitless. She almost falls off the bed, but recovers quickly to find that Josie hasn’t even blinked. She looks for the cause of the sound and finds her phone on her nightstand. Did she really leave it there?

  
  


The blue-eyed girl picks it up and glances at Josie, apologizing, “Sorry, my friend’s calling me.” She hopes she isn’t being delusional when Josie glances down, looking upset. She hopes the looks means disappointment. She hopes Josie _is_ disappointed.

  
  


Hope—still spaced out—answers the phone and forgets how to greet her friend. She almost even forgets Maya’s name, if not for the Caller ID. She’s ashamed to say that she did have to look down at her phone in order to recall her friend’s name, “Maya? What’s up?”

  
  


“HELP! COME, PLEASE!” Hope hears a scream, and then another scream in the background. Penelope maybe? The phone hangs up, and Hope knows Maya’s voice was loud enough—she wasn’t even on the speakerphone—as Hope’s roommate also looks just about as freaked out as the blue-eyed girl does.

  
  


Josie gets up within seconds, and the two share a worried look.

  
  


“Should we go—” Hope starts, but is cut off short when Josie flies through the door, already moving. Hope is only left with following behind her. 

  
  


The two make it across campus in a minute and find that Maya and Penelope’s door is already opened. It makes Hope even more scared, but when she sees Penelope and Maya on top of a table with pillows in their hands, her fear disappears. 

  
  


“What the hell are you guys doing?” Hope looks around the room. It’s a mess. There are clothes and blankets everywhere. Their beds are cluttered and there’s a chair lying upside down in the middle of the room. Josie picks up a shirt off of the floor but Maya stops her.

  
  


“No! There’s a spider!” Maya yelps, and Hope notices that both Maya and Penelope are basically holding each other, hugging so tightly that their faces are squished together. Hope frowns and Josie’s mouth falls open in shock. Both Josie and Hope thought someone was dying.

  
  


Not this.

  
  


“You’re not serious,” Hope puts a hand to her forehead, a headache brewing miserably. Josie mirrors her actions, perhaps feeling the same way.

  
  


“You guys don’t understand, it’s fricking huge,” Penelope says, sounding so distressed like she’s just been run over by a car. Twice. The two are wearing pajamas, and Hope wants to laugh hysterically at the image in front of her. Are those ladybugs on Maya’s pajama pants? Their faces are red and full of sweat. 

  
  


“And why’d you call us?” Josie asks, handing her friend—girlfriend?—a hand to get off the table. Penelope takes it, and Hope watches as their hands intertwine. Her heart becomes filled with envy, a nasty, green-colored jelly that clears out her arteries and veins with bitterness. Their hands fall from each other a second later. Josie clears her throat and Maya butts in.

  
  


“Well, actually I called Hope—” Maya remarks, but in no time Penelope cuts her off. Maya and Hope lock eyes awkwardly, like they weren’t just throwing plates a few hours ago.

  
  


“We lost it and we don’t know where it is,” Penelope clarifies and points at where they saw it last—one of the corners of the room. Hope pulls a face, but turns in the direction nonetheless. She starts to sift through the mess, picking up pieces of clothing. After two minutes, she comes up empty.

  
  


“Well, I tried. Bye!” Hope says, waving and half-way out the door. Maya pulls her back almost immediately.

  
  


“How am I supposed to go to sleep?” The girl pouts, and Hope swats her friend’s arm away. 

  
  


“That’s not my problem,” Hope blanks, shrugging her shoulders. Maya throws her a look, pleading with her. “Fine.” The auburn-haired girl picks up back where she left off and throws whatever she finds behind her, all of it culminating into a huge pile of dirty clothes. The trio behind her continues to watch until Hope’s looked through everything.

  
  


“Look, it’s probably gone. You guys left the door open,” Hope gestures to her left. She moves closer to the three, ready to just leave and go to sleep. She couldn’t care less about Penelope and Maya’s problem. 

  
  


Josie seems to freeze and stare at something on her face, causing Hope to internally panic. “Oh my god,” Josie mouths, and it comes out as a whisper but it still grabs everyone’s attention. Hope feels her soul leave her body when Josie says, “Don’t fucking move.”

  
  


Hope freezes and Josie continues to step closer and closer to her roommate. Hope really tries not to move, she really does. Although she isn’t really scared of spiders, there’s still cause for alarm if one is on her face. Right? Josie steps about a foot next to her and then a second later, Hope feels a hard, solid slap on her face.

  
  


“Fuck,” Hope puts a hand on her cheek where it stings. She can almost _feel_ it turn red. “Did you get it?” 

  
  


Josie examines Hope’s face for any insect remains and then pouts, “Where’d it go?” Hope comes to the realization that there was probably nothing on her face in the first place. Maya stifles a laugh when Hope glares at her.

  
  


“You just wanted to hit me!” Hope says, annoyed and exasperated. She frowns, thinking back to the last time Josie had slapped her. The memory falls from her lips as a remark, “I mean, wouldn’t be the first time.”

  
  


It catches Penelope’s attention and she frowns, confused. “What?”

  
  


“Nothing!” Hope and Josie shout at the exact same time—too obviously—and Hope can visibly see the signs raise in Penelope’s head. 

  
  


_Shit_.

  
  


Penelope makes a face, but Josie says something to distract her and the two get preoccupied in a conversation. Maya turns to Hope, “Let’s just look for it together.” 

  
  


It’s about thirty minutes later when they finally do find a spider—it ends up in a can of chips underneath Maya’s bed. Maya has the nerve to even say that it wasn’t the spider she first saw, but everyone chooses to ignore her. Hope and her roommate walk back to their own door room and nothing else is said for the rest of the night.

  
  


-

  
  


There seems to be a lot of buzz about the tailgate on Friday morning, and Hope actually finds herself excited for the day. Her friends can’t stop talking about it, even to the point where it becomes a twenty-four-seven topic of conversation.

  
  


However, Hope has three classes for the day, which ruins her mood completely. She hasn’t even seen Josie, either, and it’s almost the afternoon. She knows there’s no excuse to see her, though—no Economics class today, and Hope also hasn’t been to her dorm for a few hours.

  
  


Even when Hope goes back to their shared dorm room to change for the tailgating, she doesn’t see the brunette. Hope tries not to be fixated on it and ends up texting Maya to occupy herself.

  
  


A few hours later, Hope wanders mindlessly around the parking lot, looking for her friends. She finally spots them a few seconds later. They’re all wrapped around a white truck, and Maya, Ethan, and Sebastian are on the cargo bed with a few other people Hope can’t recognize. 

  
  


Maya meets her eye and she smiles, “Hey, Hope!” It’s loud enough to garner everyone’s attention near the two and Hope only smiles back, making her way on top of the truck. 

  
  


Maya helps her up and Hope sits next to her, looking around at the semi-party. There’s food everywhere and the smell of hot dogs and burgers fill her nose. It’s a lot to take in. As she looks around, she catches someone’s eyes from across the lot, but Hope doesn’t particularly linger on it.

  
  


She eyes Maya, “Where’s Sam?” She can’t seem to find her other friend. The parking lot _is_ heavily filled up, students are just about everywhere, but usually Sam sort of stands out. Hope’s friend points over to a small booth with a devious smile on her face.

  
  


_Huh_.

  
  


Sam is talking to a tall, brown-haired boy next to one of the plastered tents. That’s why Ethan looks so upset. Hope feels a little bit bad for him. Since the party a few weeks ago, she’s been noticing more and more of Ethan’s behaviors and feelings. It’s pitiful, really. But she can also admit that she’s in the same situation—if not even worse.

  
  


An hour later, the group of people in front of her are all talking, and the loud music seems to become even more boisterous. Hope listens in on the conversation until she feels someone elbow her, “Bro, that girl keeps looking over here, at you.” It’s whispered into her ear and Hope can barely hear her over the music.

  
  


Hope doesn’t even bother to check in the direction that Maya points because, well, she knows. Hope has seen the girl countless times before, and the moment the tailgate had started, she had felt a pair of eyes on her. At first, she had wished it was Josie.

  
  


She always wishes it was Josie. 

  
  


But the first, second, and third time had only been the blonde girl. Hope shifts uncomfortably in her seat, unsure of what to do. The girl is basically eye-fucking her. Hope has never seen someone be so obvious about it. 

  
  


She first chooses to ignore it, but with Maya’s mouth in her ear—telling her to do something—it’s getting harder to. “Why are you so obsessed with my love life?”

  
  


“Please, you need fun. Plus, she’s hot.” 

  
  


The girl across from them has dirty-blonde hair and her eye color matches Hope, a significant, ardent blue color. She’s wearing a smirk and Hope feels like she has super-hearing or something.

  
  


Hope tries to ignore the stare, and her eyes glance entirely on something else, someone else. She finds Josie, wearing a pair of black shorts and a black-stringed halter top. Hope also sees that her top is barely covering anything, her cleavage showing mercilessly in front of the blue-eyed girl. 

  
  


The brunette’s legs drag on endlessly and her hair is curled in beach waves. They fall down her face like a river—refreshing and alluring. Hope’s eyes dilate at the image in front of her, and she closes her legs together—trying to rid herself of the picture taunting her in her mind. 

  
  


Josie is also wearing a baseball cap and Hope wonders how the brunette can be so girly but tom-boyish at the same time. Other than that, it’s a complete turn-on. 

  
  


She wonders if Josie can tell that she’s being stared at. Hope glances once more, willing the girl to look her way. When Josie doesn’t, Hope falters, glancing elsewhere. 

  
  


Hope’s eyes lock on the girl next to Josie—Penelope. It makes her stomach ache with jealousy, and suddenly she sees a better option than to just sulk all day. Penelope has her hand on Josie’s arm and Josie is just letting her hand stay there. Holding her like a possession.

  
  


Hope scowls, looking down at her feet. She tries to pay attention to something else. Wow, the cargo bed is _really_ dirty. They couldn’t have thrown a blanket over it or something? 

  
  


It seems as though the pair are coming closer and closer over to where Hope’s friend group is, and Hope unintentionally catches a glimpse of Landon in front of Josie. He smiles at her and waves his hand and she returns the wave, twisting her fingers slightly. 

  
  


“You should go talk to her,” Maya goes on in Hope’s ear and it’s the first pair of words she can actually comprehend since she’s laid eyes on Josie. 

  
  


“You’re right,” Hope breathes and Maya forms a weird look at her friend’s sudden change of heart. The girl picks up what little dignity she has left and jumps off of the truck, smoothing her clothes out after she’s on the ground. 

  
  


“Good luck, sis!” Hope hears behind her, and the auburn-haired girl rolls her eyes before focusing on the blonde girl a few feet in front of her. It seems as though the blonde knows that Hope’s coming because she pulls out her phone, mindlessly scrolling through something. 

  
  


“Uh, hey,” Hope starts, and the girl looks up from her phone, sliding it into her pocket. Hope smiles—a cocky, full-lipped one—and her teeth shine like diamonds.

  
  


“Hi,” the blonde smiles, but she doesn’t sound shy or introverted. There’s a sort of confidence in her, and her eyes light up leisurely. Unmistakably. 

  
  


-

  
  


About eight minutes later—the conversation picks up as the blonde shamelessly flirts—Hope is backed up into a SUV with a hand in her hair and a mouth on hers. 

  
  


It’s pretty much all she was expecting, if the lustful look in the girl’s eyes has anything to say about it. The girl is a little taller, reminding her of Josie’s height. 

  
  


She hates how everything always seems to come back to Josie. 

  
  


Their bodies press together, and although they’re in a private spot—tucked behind the concealment of a few cars—there’s still a whole fucking festival in front of them. 

  
  


Hope has the thought that she forgot to ask for the girl’s name and feels kind of embarrassed about it, but at the same time finds herself not really caring. 

  
  


The blonde’s hands roam up Hope’s shirt, and Hope quickly imagines them to be Josie’s hands—

  
  


Josie’s hair—

  
  


Josie’s lips—

  
  


Hope slides her tongue into the girl’s mouth, and digs her fingers into the low of her scalp, pressing into the back of her neck. Hope can’t help but feel how wrong this is, that she feels like she’s cheating or something.

  
  


But Josie isn’t hers, and she’ll never be.

  
  


_Josie isn’t mine_.

  
  


They continue to kiss, and when the girl’s hands move further up under her t-shirt, Hope can’t stop the groan that falls from her lips. She ignores it, only kissing the girl harder—

  
  


Only imagining Josie more.

  
  


“Who’s Josie?” The blonde breathes against her, their lips still touching. The words are breathy and raspy and they pull Hope out of her current state. Hope freezes. Did she really say Josie’s name? How embarrassing. 

  
  


“Hmm?” The auburn-haired girl backs away, digging herself further into the side of the car. She slightly pushes the girl off of her, a hand to the blonde’s chest. 

  
  


“Who’s Josie?” the girl repeats, and Hope wishes she didn’t say it again. Hope heard it the first time and just chose to act oblivious. 

“Do you care?” Hope questions, her voice a bit deeper than before. There’s also a little attitude on her tongue. This really is just a hook-up, and Hope knows damn well—with the way the girl in front of her is kissing her—that the blonde is also trying to forget someone else. Or else they’d surely be doing this proper—with a date or something. 

  
  


“Not really,” she says in response, smiling, and then placing her lips back on Hope’s. Hope changes their positions, and her new _friend_ almost moans at the movement, placing one of her hands on Hope’s hipbone. 

  
  


It makes Hope feel a surge of arousal, but she’s also aware of the fact that they’re still in the middle of a parking lot. And there’s probably more than two-hundred people in that said parking lot. 

  
  


She wonders how they haven’t been caught out yet. The sun has just set, and Hope probably owes it to the new-found darkness across the campus lot. 

  
  


The two pull away, almost panting, and Hope feels a pair of lips on her throat, open-mouthed and hot. Hope feels teeth—rough—on her neck and opens her eyes in surprise at it. 

  
  


Hope allows the girl to stay there for a minute before she backs away, “We should probably continue this some other time.” Her smile is sheepish, and the auburn-haired girl looks around, finding a few eyes on them. She blushes because...what the fuck was she thinking?

  
  


“You’re right,” the girl mumbles, fixing her hair and patting her clothes down. Hope mirrors the blonde’s actions. Hope takes the girl’s number when she takes her phone out, but knows she’ll most likely never call her.

  
  


Hope makes her way back to her friends and notices how Josie’s friend group has seemingly joined Hope’s. They’re all gathered on top of the back of the truck together. Hope must have missed the little get together when she was busy...Yeah. That’s it.

  
  


Maya seems to spot her first, greeting her and then giving her a one-over, “Damn, I told you to have fun, not completely fuck around.” Maya smiles, a mostly impressed look on her face.

  
  


Hope takes Maya’s hand like earlier, using it as leverage to get on top of the cargo bed and join her friends. She tries not to look over at Landon, who is staring at her unashamedly. She can feel it like the sun in the morning—too much and for no reason.

  
  


Lizzie greets her, and Hope waves at all of them, trying to play nice. She sits next to Maya where there’s room. Sebastian is telling some story, but Hope isn’t really paying attention. She’s too busy texting Maya, who _is_ right next to her.

  
  


**why are they all here :(**

  
  


Hope feels a vibration next to her, and Maya takes her phone out of her pocket. She sees the text and Hope is impressed with how impassive her face is. She gets a text moments later, although she basically watched as Maya typed out her response.

  
  


**actually, Josie asked if they could all sit with us.**

  
  


The auburn-haired girl also tries to remain impassive, but it’s kind of hard. The text is completely shocking to Hope, it’s completely unlike Josie. Hope turns off her phone and puts it in her lap, feeling confused. She looks up finally and meets Josie’s glance across from her. 

  
  


Hope’s breath catches in her throat and she suddenly feels claustrophobic, even with Josie a few feet away from her. It feels like the distance between the sun and the earth, but the sun is still effective in its ability to provide warmth and light. 

  
  


The heated look from Josie just about drags under Hope’s skin, warming Hope up with regret. Does Josie know? Hope feels guilty, even though there’s no real reason to. She also feels weird. Josie is in front of her—the same Josie that Hope had basically just spent minutes fantasizing and longing over.

  
  


Is it wrong to kiss someone and imagine it to be someone else? Hope sighs inaudibly, allowing a dense breath to escape her lungs. She looks at Josie again, catching a glimpse of the girl when she isn’t paying attention.

  
  


Josie’s hands are in her lap and she’s toying with them apprehensively. It’s dark, but a light from one of the lamp posts is hitting the brunette attractively, touching the left-side of the girl’s face in a way that makes Hope’s heart ache.

  
  


Josie looks agitated and bothered, her face scrunched up and pained. Hope looks away, feeling like she’s bound to be caught—she’s been too greedy. So selfish. Hope can’t be looking at Josie like this, especially in front of Penelope. Hope knows they aren’t a thing—Josie has said so—but actions are different than words. Much, much different.

  
  


“Hope, what _is_ that?” Maya points at something on her neck and even reaches out with her hands. Hope pushes the girl away, ultimately embarrassed at what had transpired earlier. Unfortunately, Maya says the words too loudly, and Sebastian stops whatever story he’s been sharing for the past two minutes. 

  
  


It doesn’t help that Maya continues to point at it, like a fucking show-and-tell. Hope slaps her hand away, but she isn’t quick enough because everyone’s already looking at her—including Josie. If Maya is content with embarrassing Hope, she doesn’t show it, because she continues to go on, “Is that what I think it is?”

  
  


Hope looks down and spots two different reddish marks on her throat. Like a dumb-ass, she pulls the shirt she’s wearing up, but it can’t cover her neck like a hoodie can.

  
  


“Was that the blonde girl from earlier?” Hope’s friend asks, although she already knows the answer. Hope pictures Maya’s death—she’ll surely kill the girl herself.

  
  


“Maya, stop,” Hope pleads for about the fifth time. When Ethan offers her his hoodie, she takes it, and it seems as though everyone’s laughing at her now. 

  
  


Everyone but Josie. 

  
  


When Hope slides the hoodie over her head, she feels Josie staring, and when she looks up, the brunette’s eyes are dipped lower—on her neck. But Hope’s neck isn’t exposed anymore, covered up completely. The blue-eyed girl suddenly feels trapped in, and the overwhelming glare Josie is giving her, corners her further. 

  
  


It’s like Josie’s looking right through her, seeing everything and nothing at the same time. 

  
  


“I’m gonna go get food,” Hope says to no one in particular and gets up and off the truck. Maya moves to go with her, but Hope shakes her head at her. Maya has no _idea_ how fed up her friend is. 

  
  


Hope wanders around almost aimlessly. She isn’t hungry—it was only an excuse to get some air. She decides to head back on campus, and makes her way through the halls. As Hope rounds a corner, she is firmly spun around and backed into a wall.

  
  


Hope blinks. She could’ve sworn she didn’t hear anyone behind her. 

  
  


Fear stabs itself in her heart but when she opens her eyes, she’s met with a familiar brunette. Hope feels an almost painful pang of arousal at the darkness in Josie’s eyes and the smoldering look the brunette is sending her. 

  
  


Furious brown eyes bore into hers—the ocean breathing against the shore. 

  
  


“Josie?” Hope pants out, the wind still feels knocked out of her. She’s more than dizzy, “What are you doin—"

  
  


“—Mmm,” Hope’s words stop short, as Josie presses into her, kissing her thoroughly on the lips. Hope’s body turns almost limp, but Hope’s hands quickly recover and tangle themselves into the brunette’s curly waves. Her traitorous body instantly returns the kiss—elated and more than satisfied.

  
  


Josie’s hand is against her throat—subtle and careful. Her roommate kisses her like she’s angry, pressing her into the wall tightly, not allowing any room for Hope to breathe or back away. 

  
  


It mesmerizes and entrances Hope but perhaps her brain is too oxygen-deprived to think otherwise. Hope groans involuntarily when Josie presses one of her legs between Hope’s thighs. The reaction causes Hope to red in embarrassment almost instantly, but Josie doesn’t seem to care. If anything, she allows for more pressure, leaning in to the auburn-haired girl further. 

  
  


Josie finally lets up, pulling away. But it isn’t for pleasantries or greetings. The brunette’s face looks torn between sadness and anger, unsure of which one to fully settle on. 

  
  


“Was she better?” she breathes, her eyes wet enough that it gives Hope pause. Josie leans in again, maybe trying to kiss Hope once more, but the auburn-haired girl evades her. 

  
  


“Josie?” 

  
  


When Hope’s lips seem to dodge her, Josie moves the hood of Hope's jacket off to the side, something in her trembling fingers desperate but wanton. She dips her head down, brushing her lips against Hope’s neck before she pushes her away again. 

  
  


“What are you doing?” Her voice sounds unusually thick and rough to her own ears. Josie becomes even more frantic. 

  
  


“Am I better?” That same incessant mouth against the edge of her collarbone, a ghost of lips along her skin. Hope steps away, her chest heaving. 

  
  


“What?” Josie says, her tone slightly mocking. “I hurt you, so you hurt me?” 

  
  


“That’s not…” No. That's not what Hope had been doing. Was it? No. Her lungs begin to ache. She asks, breathless, “I hurt you?” 

  
  


A light flickers in Josie’s eyes. They narrow, almost thoughtfully. She stares at Hope, something searching in her gaze, as if she’s really, _really_ looking at her—looking for something. She must find it, because she laughs then, shaking her head with silent, incredulous giggles. 

  
  


“God, you’re so oblivious,” Josie steps back, and the short distance feels like miles to Hope. Her mouth falls open as she searches for a response, her throat suddenly dry and sore where it hadn’t been before. 

  
  


“I…” She swallows restlessly, her head spinning. The words get stuck in her throat, and when Josie leaves, she says nothing at all. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Each ripe hour waited to be picked  
> You crush them, smear the pulp and blood  
> Brush my arm away and stand where  
> I can't touch you
> 
> Not Cure, Not Denial - Alison Stone

Watching Josie walk away is an absolute monster in Hope’s chest. It’s a demon that squeezes Hope’s heart in a death-tight vice. It’s on and off. Eyes on Josie. Eyes off.

  
  


Somehow it hurts more when she looks away.

  
  


It’s a greedy hand against her neck, suffocating. It makes an imprint in her throat, lingering only as a reminder. Hope rubs at the pain, willing herself to chase after the girl.

  
  


She doesn’t move.

  
  


Josie’s walk is slow—like a taunt—as if she knows Hope won’t go after her. Like she knows all Hope can do is just watch. The blue-eyed girl’s shoes stay stuck in the ground, the earth persuading her to stay. 

  
  


Josie disappears after a second and Hope is left tormented by the view without her.

  
  


-

  
  


Hope comes back to the parking lot ten minutes later, stepping around stiffly. Rocks weigh her down and her heaviness evaporates into the world around her. She debates whether to come back to her friends or not. She eyes the truck where her friends are and when she doesn’t spot Josie, she decides to continue further.

  
  


Penelope isn’t there either and Hope tries not to think about what it might mean. She pictures it all—despite herself—and suffers with the thought of it. 

  
  


“There you are!” Sam says as soon as everyone sees her and Hope immediately regrets her choice of not going back to her dorm. Now she has to talk to people and have a conversation—she should’ve just faked an illness or something. The scratchiness of her throat and the oncoming headache seems convincing enough.

  
  


Hope feels herself zone out, replaying her and Josie’s conversation for the fiftieth time. The words are so recent and come back to her in seconds.

  
  


_Oblivious?_

  
  


Hope has been anything but. In fact, she’s been direct, and—

  
  


_Honest_. 

  
  


If anything, Josie hasn’t been truthful. The brunette has been an absolute nightmare, tormenting Hope in her dreams and outside of them. Josie can’t deal with one night of jealousy? Hope has been dealing with it for weeks, a constant build-up of agony and misery—spiking further more and more whenever she sees Penelope and Josie together.

  
  


Hope doesn’t deserve this. She doesn’t. Josie should be the one apologizing. Hope is okay with secret kisses and secret _everything_. This is what Josie wanted. A memory of Josie and Penelope holding hands at the start of the tailgate floats in Hope’s mind. 

  
  


Josie started this. This was all her. Hope’s thoughts drive her into ruins, distracting her from having fun and staying in the moment with her friends. It is not in Hope’s nature to carry on. It simply isn’t.

  
  


No. She needs to go on and _think_. There are always ways to spin it more, there is always something else to think about, to decide upon. It’s a lethal plague, a classic definition of an over-thinker. There is a reality, but Hope does not seem to know it—does not seem to acknowledge it.

  
  


She feels someone shake her arm and it grabs her attention—pulling her away from her thoughts. She turns to the culprit, “What?” Hope hasn’t been listening at all and everyone is looking at her weird—even Lizzie.

  
  


“We were asking you about your food,” Sebastian reiterates, eyebrows furrowing in question. Hope tilts her head, and then blinks in realization. “Didn’t you say you went to get food?”

  
  


She laughs suspiciously, her voice becoming high with dishonesty, “Yeah! Uh, I got a hotdog.” The girl clears her throat, looking down into her lap. Hope can’t help but laugh at how it’s all played out. She wonders what excuse Josie came up with—what she said exactly so she could follow Hope and trap her.

  
  


“Well...where is it?” Lizzie butts in and Hope wants to cuss her out almost instantly. The nerve of the girl. She looks around the room, amusingly, and comes up blank. Sebastian slightly laughs next to her and Hope glares at him.

  
  


“I ate it already,” Hope shrugs her shoulders, but doesn’t say anything else. She hopes it’s enough to dissuade the looks that her friends—and Lizzie’s friends—are giving her. Where the hell is Josie? Her eyes settle on Landon and he looks like a deflated basketball. This night has not been good for _anyone_. The blue-eyed girl hopes, however, that Landon’s feelings deter after today. She isn’t that blind.

  
  


“It took you thirty minutes to finish a hotdog?” Maya questions beside the girl, a suggestive smirk against her lips. Hope frowns, feeling her cover story slip away from her. Do her friends have to be this nosy? They better not pull this shit, _ever_ again. 

  
  


Landon’s lips pull into a tight smile and Hope almost has the audacity to laugh. She tries to figure out something to say, but ends up not having to. Josie and Penelope arrive, bright smiles on their faces.

  
  


Hope doesn’t even have the energy to look at the pair and decides to keep her head down, newly nauseated and fully distraught. Her hands shake in front of her and the colors around her turn grey and unexciting. 

  
  


Hope suddenly wishes to turn back time and fix the hour. Would there be enough chances to fix everything? Would time offer her any kindness? 

  
  


She tries not to show it, tries not to express the anxiety tucked underneath her bottom lip or the abrasive feeling of her throat. Talking would reveal her so she stays quiet, content with dead air.

  
  


She wonders if Josie ran straight to Penelope after their...their—

  
Hope doesn’t even know what to call it. What _did_ they do?

  
  


“You two couldn’t have done _that_ , I don’t know, any other time,” Lizzie glances at the pair, acting disgusted at her sister’s affinity for sex. She gags, a mocking finger down her throat. Josie doesn’t even act sheepish, simply sitting next to her twin. Hope tries not to glimpse at the girl. The auburn-haired girl doesn’t want to look at Josie and find whatever might be indicative of a quickie. Hope’s eyes sting with bitterness.

  
  


Some naive, optimistic part of Hope knows that Josie wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t have sex with Penelope. Not anymore. Not after...Right?

  
  


“So,” the brunette asks casually, “...What were you guys talking about?” The question is innocent but Hope pauses, feeling stiff immediately. She really hopes someone changes the subject, or does _something_. 

  
  


The silence is pretty apparent and Hope finds that the crowd around them has dispersed, probably headed towards the football game or elsewhere. She wonders why they’re all still here, sitting on top of the cargo bed. There is no more music and the parking lot is almost empty.

  
  


The awkward cut in conversation causes Hope to realize just how big Ethan’s hoodie is on her. It feels like a safety net. All Hope wants to do is pull down the hood of the sweatshirt and hide in it. Or leave. No one would care if she left, anyway. 

  
  


Maya deviously smiles at Josie’s question. Hope feels a disaster coming a mile away. Maya pats her friend’s thigh—but Hope still doesn’t look up—and says, “Oh, we were just talking about how Hope disappeared for a really, _really_ long time.” They all start to laugh and Josie’s smile slips off of her face at the end of Maya’s sentence.

  
  


“I think she fucking gets it,” Hope mumbles, but no one hears it over the giggling. Hope doesn’t know what’s so funny. She knows that they all probably think she went to that blonde again from earlier.

  
  


“Wow, that’s interesting,” Josie says—trying to remain offhandish—and the blue-eyed girl looks up for the first time in a few minutes. Panic overwhelms Josie and Hope only catches it by the way her eyes anxiously look to the right and then the left. Hope wonders if Penelope is just an alibi so Josie won’t look guilty either. So no one will connect the dots.

  
  


Josie tilts her head, gasping slightly and wondering, “What were you doing?” It’s a little too direct and it’s all for show. It’s the least hostile Josie has ever been, but her intentions run false like never before. 

  
  


Hope gets agitated—her heart beats soundly and her throat closes up—at the direct eye contact, and Josie grins. It’s too calculated for Hope to fall for it. The blue-eyed girl guesses it’s for show as well. At the end of the question, Josie raises her right eyebrow—a tell-tale for Hope to play along.

  
  


What if Hope just ratted the pair out right now? It couldn’t be so bad, could it? The smirk on Josie’s face deserves it—Josie deserves it. Hope would be a horrible person for it, though. After all Josie has confided in her, it’d be the worst move right now. Even after how Josie so quickly chose to _hurt_ her back. 

  
  


“I was just with…” Shit. Hope doesn’t even know her name. “...You know.” She attempts to sound offhanded. All the same, Hope can’t help but notice how Josie’s throat bobs at the words but all the others don’t even blink. Maya reacts a little too much. 

  
  


“I knew it!” She almost screams and Hope clamps a hand over her ear in pain. Sebastian and Ethan watch the two, highly amused. Landon gets up and leaves, throwing an excuse out, and Hope is thankful for it. No one even blinks an eye at Landon’s absence and Hope kind of feels bad for it—for him.

  
  


“You like her, don’t you?” Maya grills her, pulling her on the shoulder. Hope puffs. Maya should know better. Her friend knows where—who—her interest lies with, as well as this is most definitely a private matter.

  
  


Lizzie’s friends—Rafael and Milton—don’t seem to care, though. They actually seem a bit interested and it makes Hope feel ashamed. She’s a Mikaelson, why is she letting everyone know who she’s crushing on? It’s fucking embarrasing. Her father would kill her for being so—

  
  


So revealing.

  
  


But is it revealing if it’s only disclosed to cover something else up?

  
  


Hope completely ignores the girl next to her and feels agony eat at her for long enough. She turns to Josie, wanting payback. Wanting payback so, _so_ bad. Perhaps this is what’s wrong with the pair—perhaps this is what’s so unhealthy with Hope’s infatuation for the girl.

  
  


It makes her do quite ugly things. 

  
  


She almost calls the girl by name, but finds that she already has the brunette’s attention. Hope looks her thoroughly in the eye—as if she wasn’t kissing the girl moments before—and calmly states, “Just letting you know, it’s probably best if you don’t come back to the dorm tonight.” The blue-eyed girl insinuates it, hinting at the blonde from earlier. 

  
  


_Just letting you know, you should stay at Maya’s tonight._

  
  


Hope offers the parallel on purpose, hoping that something in Josie snaps. In the corner of Hope’s eye, Lizzie’s back straightens. Hope sees a flicker of emotion dot across Josie’s face and it lingers there for a second before completely disappearing. It’s enough to satisfy Hope, nonetheless.

  
  


“Thanks for the heads up,” Josie gulps, nodding her head at the girl. Hope’s heart drops in her chest but she isn’t disappointed. It’s an expected heartache, and she meets Josie’s eyes longingly. The young Mikaelson watches as Josie turns to the girl next to her—Penelope—and tries to gauge her reaction. Penelope doesn’t seem too concerned with it and the brown-eyed girl’s face instantly relaxes.

  
  


A whirlwind of emotions covets her and Hope isn’t surprised when she’s overcome with exhaustion suddenly. Acting like this with Josie—in front of their friends—is exhausting.

  
  


She just wants to talk to her. 

  
  


To kiss that stupid smile off of her face. 

  
  


To make her feel how Hope so desperately feels.

  
  


Is that too much to ask?

  
  


Hope’s smirk lingers a little while longer before Lizzie changes the subject, grabbing everyone’s attention all at once.

  
  


“Okay, so Sebastian and I were talking,” the blonde twin starts, looking around excitedly and gesturing with her hands. She stares at Hope—who isn’t paying attention—and rolls her eyes, snapping her fingers in front of Hope’s face. Hope frowns at the gesture, but signals for the girl to carry on.

  
“—We thought it’d be fun to go on a beach trip.”

  
  


Maya’s face lightens up and her words grow from excitement, “When?” She glances back and forth between Sebastian and Lizzie until she lands on the boy, who answers.

  
  


“Tomorrow afternoon. Lizzie and Josie own a beach house there,” he openly explains, looking mainly at his girlfriend the whole time. Josie’s eyes narrow like it’s the first time she’s heard of it, and Hope tries her best to stifle a bitter laugh. 

  
  


“Of course they do,” the blue-eyed girl says underneath her breath, but this time there’s no laughter in the air to get away with it. Lizzie makes a move to talk but Sebastian pulls her back down.

  
  


Hope starts to think about how Lizzie and Sebastian might have some kind of agreement—to be nice to each other’s friends no matter what. It’s mostly because of how Sebastian places a calming hand on the blonde’s thigh, which drives Hope to feel sort of bad for saying such a thing.

  
  


Whatever, she hadn’t meant for anyone to hear her. Anyhow, regret has bitten her in the ass now a couple thousand times, so she doesn’t even feel some remorse at this point anymore. 

  
  


Josie is a completely different story on the other hand. 

  
  


“Oh, I’m sorry, Miss I Own A House In Every Fucking State,” Josie scoffs, her lips pulling together tightly.

  
  


Shit. Hope had kind of forgotten about that. Sometimes she forgets about her family’s own fortune. Especially when her parents aren’t here to remind her of it anymore.

  
  


Penelope laughs beside the brunette, an obnoxious, hearty giggle. Would it be so bad to shove Penelope off the side of the car?

  
  


“Hey,” Hope narrows her eyes, almost surprised at Josie’s comment. Her face reddens, a flush daunting her neck. She’s being so hypocritical. She tries to remain cool, “How do you know that?”

  
  


“I was just guessing,” the girl shrugs, a smile pulling at her lips. The smile itself seems innocent enough, but the tone of her voice is sarcastic and the shrug offsets it. Hope makes a reminder to check her social media later. She knows Josie’s sister follows her and Hope is pretty sure she has nothing revealing on any of her social media. 

  
  


She’s fine, she reassures herself. There’s no way Josie has her socials or has done research. There’s no way. She’s completely fine.

  
  


_I’m fine._

  
  


“So…” Lizzie cuts through the awkwardness, indignantly, and she sure as hell looks like she wants to punch the both of them. “We can all go tomorrow. It seems like fun.” 

  
  


“Yeah, they’ll go,” Sebastian butts in suddenly, blankly staring at his group of friends and answering for them. Hope wonders why he cares so much. Surely, the couple can just go by themselves. Wouldn’t they like that idea more?

  
  


She also just doesn’t want to go.

  
  


“Don’t you guys, I don’t know, wanna go by yourselves?” Hope explicitly asks, looking at Sebastian skeptically. Shouldn’t he be jumping at the idea? The two of them...alone…for a day. 

  
  


Lizzie smiles slightly, like it was her first thought. “Well, that was our first idea, but…”

  
  


“Mom said no, didn’t she?” Josie asks, a little annoyed. Hope wonders why she looks so embittered. Lizzie nods her head—dejected at how her parents shot it down. Hope spaces out slightly at the mention of the Saltzman’s parents. It makes her sad—grief encases her still—at the omission of her own parents.

  
  


The twins’ mother slightly reminds Hope of her own mother. She would kill Hope if the blue-eyed girl would ever try to get away with staying in a house with someone—a special someone—all alone.

  
  


“Damn, so we’re just along for the ride?” Milton questions next to the blonde and Hope notices the hurt in his eyes like never before. It reminds Hope of a kicked puppy, the way his brown eyes bore into the air all battered-like. 

  
  


_Weird._

  
  


“Pretty much, yeah,” Lizzie says fairly insensitively, placing her head on Sebastian’s shoulder. Hope observes Milton once again and his face is somehow...further disappointed? Hope gathers that Lizzie must not know or probably isn’t acknowledging it. Hope tries to ignore the boy, not really caring because of Sebastian’s own happiness.

  
However, it doesn’t stop her from comparing it to her own situation. Penelope and Josie. The names—together—feel like thick poison in her throat. She swallows it down all the same.

  
  


Rafael speaks up quickly, probably not really wanting to go either, “Can’t you guys just go and then we’ll all pretend like we went?” Hope watches as Lizzie rolls her eyes and then pouts.

  
  


“I will _not_ hesitate to drag you bitches in the ground,” Lizzie mutters, holding her purse up like she can do some damage. She stands up and almost half of the group leans back, not really wanting to get hit. “You guys have to come. Stop being mean.” Her pout deepens, but it looks more like anger than sadness.

  
  


“Plus, I also thought about that,” she chuckles like the next part is going to be embarrassing. She turns her head down, not really meeting anyone’s eyes, “My mom will be there, so we won’t get away with it.” 

  
  


The words make Hope smile. There’s no way in hell she’s going to stand up—a Mikaelson—and act all friendly in front of their mom. 

  
  


She even starts to laugh, knowing that now she doesn’t have to go. Her shoulders straighten and Hope feels relieved instantly, “I actually have an excuse this time. Sorry, suckers.” Maya throws an arm at her, but Hope catches it before it strikes her in the forehead. 

  
  


Sebastian shakes his head at her and it discourages the auburn-headed girl slightly. Everyone but Lizzie seems to understand.

  
  


“What do you mean?” Lizzie’s eyebrows furrow downward, confusion evident in her face. Hope glances at Josie, waiting for the other girl to give the response. Hope definitely _isn’t_ going to explain anything. Surely, Lizzie should know enough. Right?

  
  


Silence hits the group like a bomb and Hope waits for someone else to say something. She looks at Josie, again, but the brunette has her eyes up towards the sky—obviously not trying to meet Hope’s eye. The auburn-haired girl sighs, “You don’t know?” 

  
  


It makes the situation decidedly worse. Lizzie’s look becomes even more puzzled and she turns to her sister, “Josie? What is she talking about?” 

  
  


Josie chooses not to answer her twin, instead opting to turn to the blue-eyed girl angrily, “Really, Hope?” 

  
  


_What?_

  
  


“How is this on me?” Hope wonders, mirroring the girl’s anger as well. 

  
  


“I mean, it wouldn’t be if you just don’t speak,” Josie brushes the girl off like she’s _nothing_ and Hope feels humiliation hit her like a bullet to the lung. The comment hurts Hope more than anything Josie has ever said. It’s such a degrading and embarrassing remark and Maya looks at her in pity. 

  
  


Penelope puts a hand on Josie’s shoulder, probably in shock at the girl’s language, or just trying to discourage her. 

  
  


_It’s not my fault your family doesn’t care about your sister enough to fill her in._

  
  


It’s what she wants to say, but she’s disciplined enough to not word anything. She knows it’ll only exacerbate everything and Josie is already throwing enough daggers at her as it is. Hope chooses to stay quiet, shaking her head incredulously.

  
  


Josie finally turns to her sister, “I’ll explain to you later. I promise.” With the reassurance, Lizzie seems to calm down and Hope plays with her hands all over again—digging her fingernails into her palms restlessly. 

  
  


Maya starts to talk about some movie and Hope is glad for the distraction. She knows the change of subject was probably on purpose and it’s the first time this night that Hope isn’t mad at her friend. Maya’s voice plays like an echo in her ears, however, and Hope finds herself unable to hang onto whatever the girl is saying.

  
  


It can’t be that important, though. It’s a movie.

  
  


After a pause in Maya’s story, Hope takes the opportunity to leave, “Uh, I’ll see you guys later. Have fun tomorrow.” It’s very curt but also polite, and she tries not to frown when she talks. 

  
  


She remembers what she told Josie earlier.

  
  


_Just letting you know, it’s probably best if you don’t come back to the dorm tonight._

  
  


She grimaces at the realization, knowing that she’ll have to keep the act up. “I h-have to meet someone,” Hope explains, trying not to sound so awkward. She tries to be confident about it, tries to lift herself up from the hole she’s in.

  
  


Maya smirks at that, remembering about Hope’s little fling. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she raises her eyebrows suggestively, absolutely beaming up at Hope.

  
  


“You’ll do anything,” Hope deadpans, trying not to look at Josie. It’s so hard.

  
  


“Exactly,” Hope’s friend quirks her head up, giving the girl an enthusiastic thumbs up. Hope groans before waving goodbye to everyone else. Josie doesn’t look up once.

  
  


-

  
  


Hope almost thinks about calling the blonde from earlier, but ultimately decides against it. She’s not in the mood, and she only really thought about it to get back at Josie. 

  
  


Plus, it’s nice to have the room for herself once. It feels nice to kick someone out—and not be the one to _get_ kicked out. She plugs in her earbuds, mindlessly walking around the room. The room smells like Josie and Hope’s head swells with the scent. 

  
  


She takes a bath—fitting herself into the extremely small area of the bathroom—and spends two hours sunk in the hot water. Although it turns cold after an hour, it still feels good somehow. 

  
  


The coldness numbs her, chilly against her skin. She closes her eyes, relishing in the feeling slightly. She shivers at the feeling, thinking about Josie—it seems as though Hope’s thoughts are always spoken for, taking an interest in the brunette rather substantially. 

  
  


She thinks about everything that’s happened with Josie, this night especially. The kiss still leaves her mind flooded with want...and other things. Josie’s desperation in the moment still attracts her. Hope had felt so _wanted_ , but now she’s only left with a familiar longing. How can they go from that to this?

  
  


Does she owe the girl an apology? Hope doesn’t think so.

  
  


It’s a few hours later when Hope is lying down on her bed, her phone in her hands. She’s watching Netflix when a notification pops up on her phone.

  
  


Her eyes widen when she sees a text message from Elizabeth Saltzman. The notification passes and Hope decides whether to finish her episode or just text the girl back. Curiosity gets the best of her and she opens the app, checking her direct messages instantly. 

  
  


**Jo and I talked...You should still come tomorrow, it’s fine.**

  
  


That _damn_ nickname. Hope reads the message over and over again—exactly seven times—and then responds, not wanting to upset either of the Saltzman twins any further.

  
  


**I think I’ll pass, thank you though.**

  
  


She turns her phone off, staring into the ceiling. Her phone buzzes immediately and Hope grabs it once again. Lizzie’s reply makes her grin slightly. Her and her sister share the exact same manners.

  
  


**It wasn’t a question. Sebastian will send the details to you later, bye :)**

  
  


Hope decides not to respond back, simply liking the message. She’ll just ask Sebastian later if there’s any possibility that she can just ditch it. He’ll hopefully be more kind. 

  
  


She lays back on her bed, her hair stretched out onto her pillow. Hope doubts that Josie went to Penelope’s. She’s probably at her sister’s dorm room or something. Even if she is staying at Penelope’s, they can’t really do anything. Maya is there. The blue-eyed girl finds herself hoping that Maya _is_ there. Hope should probably text Maya and tell her that she lied about the blonde and that the auburn-haired girl is actually by herself. She’ll understand once Hope fills her in on everything that’s happened with Josie. She’ll understand.

  
  


Hope continues to reassure herself, but they fall short in building up her confidence—it only wavers what little is left.

  
  


-

  
  


In the morning, Hope is woken up suddenly by someone calling her. It takes her a few rings to answer and when she finally checks the caller ID, it’s Maya. She answers, her voice groggy and laced with deep sleep, “Hello?”

  
  


“Wake up, bitch,” Maya shouts through the phone, and Hope’s ears pierce. She slides her phone farther from her ear, preparing herself for Maya’s next words. “Josie wants to know if it’s safe to come back yet. She needs to get stuff for the beach.” 

  
  


“No, tell her to never come back,” Hope states, no empathy in her voice whatsoever. Her voice is void of any real emotion as she tries to concern herself with nothing.

  
  


It’s not _her_ fault she woke up dreaming endlessly about Josie. Her dreams of Josie felt like a movie—a moment of Josie walking away from her—on repeat, and all Hope could do was suffer again and again and again. After the third or fourth time of the same exact nightmare, it gets tiring.

  
  


“Hope, stop,” Maya admonishes the girl, putting a stop to whatever nonsense this is. Hope tries to speak but Maya talks over her, “Can she come back?” 

  
  


“No. Like I said, tell her exactly to _fuck_ off,” Hope hangs up, descending back onto her bed. She slides back underneath her blankets, pulling her covers up to her neck. 

  
  


She closes her eyes and the relaxation lasts for a whole minute until she hears a pounding noise at her door. Hope doesn’t do anything for a whole minute, hoping it’ll just go away. It doesn’t. 

  
  


She gets up, almost stomping to the door as if mimicking a giant, and opens it. She spots Maya, right away, and the girl looks like she’s fuming in anger. Her fists are clenched and almost shaking, “How _dare_ you hang up on me.” 

  
  


Her friend storms past her, bumping their shoulders roughly. She looks around the room and types out something on her phone. Hope guesses it’s a text to Josie to come back or something.

  
  


“What is wrong with you?” Maya says as Hope closes the door, still tired from being woken up so suddenly.

  
  


“Nothing.” Thorns stick to Hope’s throat and she pauses to swallow them harshly. “Now go away.”

  
  


Hope rubs at her eyes, hoping that when she opens them Maya won’t be there anymore. Maya is clearer than ever, “Why do you keep pushing me away?”

  
  


A bitter, rough laugh falls from Hope’s mouth, “It’s not that serious. Leave.”

  
  


Maya does the opposite. She comes at Hope—too quickly for Hope to do anything about it—and tosses her to the ground in one move. Hope, having just woke up, isn’t functioning correctly and doesn’t even make a move to get up or out of the hold Maya has on her.

  
  


Her friend then proceeds to sit on her chest and rock back and forth like a toddler. “Wow, this is more fun than I thought.” 

  
  


“I can’t—”

  
  


“—Fucking,” Hope coughs, almost wheezing. “...Breathe.”

  
  


“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” Maya shrugs, and lifts her foot up and then harshly down on Hope’s stomach. “Perhaps you shouldn’t be so rude to your friends.” Each word is punctuated with a kick and Hope’s face turns near purple.

  
  


“Okay, I get it,” Hope inhales as much air as possible and tries to wiggle out of Maya’s grasp. She drags her arms on Maya’s shoulders, “I’m sorry.”

  
  


“That’s what I thought,” Maya smiles, fully satisfied. She tries to get up, but accidentally gets stuck in between Hope’s legs and falls on top of the girl. It also happens just as the door swings open—Josie.

  
  


“Uh…” Josie chokes out, looking at the pair on the floor. Hope moves right away, just now only having the energy to get Maya off of her. She stands up, her feet trembling slightly.

  
  


“It’s not what it looks like,” Maya explains when Hope becomes speechless. The red blush on their faces doesn’t exactly help.

  
  


“She sat on me,” Hope gathers, rubbing the back of her neck. She inhales deeply, still breathless from the incident. 

  
  


“I did,” Maya confirms eagerly and the two glance at each other, slightly flushed.

  
  


Josie’s face itches with confusion and she eyes the pair quite skeptically. She closes the door behind her, “Okay.”

  
  


The brunette throws her stuff on her bed and Hope and Maya watch her. So, so awkwardly. She turns back at the two friends, looking at them weirdly, and then states, “I have to take a shower.”

  
  


“You took one earlier,” Maya says, a frown forming on her lips.

  
  


“Yeah, no offense, but your shower was...nasty,” Josie grimaces, as if remembering it. “You and Penelope really don’t know how to take care of yourselves.”

  
  


“Please…” Maya rolls her eyes. “We aren’t that bad.”

  
  


Maya turns to Hope, looking for reassurance, but Hope can’t seem to meet her eye. Maya’s frown deepens, pulling her lips down helplessly. 

  
  


“Well, it didn’t help when we walked into your room the other day and everything was a mess,” Hope continues, further demonstrating Josie’s opinion. 

  
  


“That was just because of the spider,” Maya pouts, trying to justify their messiness. She sits on Hope’s bed and then gets up immediately, feeling the other two tower over her—two against one.

  
  


“Sure it was,” Josie mumbles, gathering some clothes and then she walks into the bathroom. Leaving Hope and Maya alone.

  
  


“Whatever,” Maya dismisses, and then grabs Hope’s attention by pulling on her shoulder. She takes out her phone, reading the text Sebastian sent her. She puts her phone back in her pocket after, “Anyways, Sebastian wanted me to be here to make sure you got ready for the trip.”

  
  


“That asshole,” the auburn-haired girl murmurs. “I knew he couldn’t face me himself.” Sebastian’s a coward. A literal coward. How is she going to get herself out of this now?

  
  


“He knew you’d try to convince him that you shouldn’t be going,” Maya points out, glancing around at the neatness of their room. Hope might’ve cleaned—a lot—yesterday. It just makes her feel better, that’s all. “And he’s not wrong.”

  
  


“Whatever. He’ll understand when I don’t show up,” Hope brings her lips together in a mocking, ill-humored way. It’s almost a pout, accompanied by a shrug of the shoulders.

  
  


“Hope, stop,” Maya giggles, and Hope almost starts to laugh as well—Maya’s smile is contagious. “That’s not funny.”

  
  


“It kind of is,” Hope eyes the girl and sits down on her bed while Maya rummages through her closet.

  
  


“You need a bathing suit,” Maya starts to dig through the drawers and scoops through the first one.

  
  


“Don’t. The first two are Josie’s,” Hope calls out, but Maya still continues to dig through them like she doesn’t care. “Really, Maya, stop. It’s not cool.”

  
  


“Wow, so much...lingerie,” Maya drawls and Hope is _really_ glad that she doesn’t pull any of it out. Hope gets up right away, putting a hand on Maya’s. Maya rolls her eyes, and sifts through the other drawers—Hope’s drawers.

  
  


Filthy, _filthy_ images fill up Hope’s head and it doesn’t help that Josie’s in the shower as well. Maya smirks like she knows exactly what’s running through the auburn-haired girl’s mind.

  
  


“God, do you ever stop to think about how _hot_ Josie really is?” Maya shakes her head, whistling. 

  
  


_All the time._

  
  


“Like I’m into guys and all,” Hope’s friend continues, licking her lips. Her voice drops into a whisper, “But she can get it. Anytime.”

  
  


Hope knows Maya is fucking with her. She has to be. There’s no other reason for her sudden interest in the brunette. It irritates Hope—how Maya talks so blatantly, so sexually about her. 

  
  


“Don’t you ever wanna just, I don’t know, tear off her clothes and _fuck_ —” 

  
  


“Maya,” Hope breathes, tired of the girl’s behavior. She seethes, her anger bubbling up in flames, “Stop.” Hope’s mind cycles, trying to keep her irritation in check. 

  
  


“Fine,” Maya holds her hands up in surrender, pulling out a bathing suit top for Hope to wear. It’s a baby-blue top with a white outline and Hope knows _exactly_ how it looks. “This will look perfect on your boobs.” She puts it up against Hope’s chest, imagining it.

  
  


“Put it on,” Maya says and starts to look for other tops, just in case it doesn’t work out. Hope looks blankly at the girl, but Maya doesn’t seem to see it.

  
  


“Sure! So Josie can walk right out and see me half-naked,” she remarks, her voice lowering to a whisper, much like Maya’s had. Their walls are very thin and Hope knows that her and Maya shouldn’t exactly be talking right now.

  
  


“Don’t be so dramatic,” Maya starts. “I’ll cover you,” she smiles—out of the kindness of her heart—and Hope finds it doesn’t make her feel any better.

  
  


“We should just wait until she’s done,” Hope reiterates, unsure. She grabs the matching bottom and puts it in a bag. Maya tells her that they’re all going to the store together to get sunscreen, food, and drinks. Hope pauses, curious.

  
  


“Wait, we’re all going into one car together?” 

  
  


“What else were you thinking?” Maya throws her a weird look, preparing an extra change of clothes for Hope when the blue-eyed girl gives her the go-ahead for it. Maya packs her a pair of shorts, a long-sleeved shirt, and a hoodie—it gets cold at night at the beach.

  
  


“Uh, how are we all going to fit?” Hope asks the obvious question, checking the clothes Maya has laid out for before throwing them into her bag as well. “Why don’t we just bring two cars?”

  
  


“Sebastian told me that Lizzie rented out a van or something like that,” Maya explains, grabbing a charger and lotion off of Hope’s nightstand. She throws them at Hope, who catches them with ease.

  
  


“God, they’re so extra,” Hope whiffs, amused. She throws her head back, a laugh coming out of her mouth, “Acting like we’re all a family, going on vacation.”

  
  


“Yeah, but let’s be honest. They’re cute,” Maya admits, talking about Sebastian and Lizzie. Hope instantly agrees at the comment, nodding her head.

  
  


“Who’s cute?” The bathroom door flies open, Josie coming out with wet hair and smooth skin. She smells really, _really_ good. 

  
  


Hope eyes her and the image sends her heart beating instantaneously. She tries to lessen the ache, turning her attention back to her bag. She continues to toss random shit in it—anything to distract herself from Josie.

  
  


“We were just talking about Seb and Lizzie,” Maya mentions casually, closing all of the drawers of the dresser. If Josie sees Maya close the first two drawers, she doesn’t say anything about it.

  
  


“Oh,” the brunette says, packing her own bag. Her bag is colorful and cute—it reminds Hope of something crocheted. It looks hand-made and it suits the Saltzman twin well. “They are.”

  
  


Hope digs her bathing suit out of her bag, heading towards the bathroom with some clothes. Embarrassingly enough, she’s still in her pajamas. Although they aren’t bad, it’s late in the morning and she can’t believe she hasn’t changed yet. 

  
  


She’s scared to leave Maya alone with her roommate, but knows Maya wouldn’t do anything drastic. Hope heads into the bathroom, changing quickly into her beach attire—her bathing suit underneath short shorts and a slightly transparent, buttoned cover up. The cover up falls mid-thigh length and Hope puts her hair up in a messy bun before leaving the bathroom. 

  
  


When she walks out, Josie and Maya quiet immediately. It raises some suspicion in Hope and she finds herself wanting to know what the pair were talking about. 

  
  


Maya grins at her, “You look hot.”

  
  


Hope also checks out the girl in front of her. When did Maya have the opportunity to change? Did she change in front of Josie? The blue-eyed girl shifts awkwardly from where she’s standing and clears her throat, “Thanks, you too.”

  
  


Thankfully, Josie is turned around, so Hope doesn’t have to suffer the pain of making eye contact with the girl. Hope looks around for her sunglasses, finding them on her nightstand. She rests them on the top of her head, just so she doesn’t have to lose them in her bag. 

  
  


Getting sunglasses out of a bag—that’s already filled with countless shit—is a nightmare.

  
  


“So when are we leaving?” Hope asks, to no one in particular, when silence fills the air. 

  
  


Josie turns to finally face her and Hope doesn’t miss it when the girl’s eyes dip lower. Far, far lower. Hope shifts—once again—under the scrutiny, uncomfortable at Josie being so obvious. Especially in front of Maya.

  
  


However, Maya doesn’t seem to see any of it. She’s on her phone, scrolling on something with her thumb. Had Maya even heard Hope talk? 

  
  


“Uh,” Josie starts, her gaze finally meeting Hope’s own eyes. The brunette doesn’t even have the decency to blush, acting like she wasn’t doing anything—like explicitly checking Hope out—in the first place. “...I think in like thirty minutes.”

  
  


“Thanks,” Hope says, but it’s gruff and feels like gravel pushing against her tongue. She tries to remind herself of the bad blood between them. She tries.

  
  


“Yeah,” Josie draws out, but the word is uttered distractedly and the girl’s mind seems a million miles away. Hope gulps, her throat pulling against her tragically. 

  
  


“Hey, Maya, we should probably go and—” Hope blanks, unsure of what excuse to make up. She looks around the room for any help and spots a candy wrapper on the floor. Perfect.

  
  


“—We should clean your room! There’s plenty of time,” Hope bullshits, grabbing Maya by her hand. She almost even steals the girl’s phone. Anything to get the girl up and out.

  
  


“What?” Maya asks, confused and bewildered by Hope’s abrupt movement. She narrows her eyes at the girl, stuck in her spot on the bed.

  
  


“I could help,” Josie offers, suddenly kind. Hope finds it funny. She finds it very, very funny. 

  
  


“No!” Hope frowns, the response falling from her lips fast. She pauses, trying to sound more sane, “I mean, no. Don’t worry about it.”

  
  


When Maya still doesn’t make a move to get off the bed, Hope almost explodes, “I’ll clean your room for you! Bye.” She walks out the door, without a key to Maya’s in her hand. She immediately freezes, but chooses not to go back in. The auburn-haired girl heads to the campus quad area, sitting down on one of the benches.

  
  


Today is sunny and Hope distantly hears a flock of birds in the sky. The air is pure and fills Hope’s chest with refreshing blasts. A wind blows against the girl, a light and plentiful breeze. With the time, Hope tries to prepare herself for this _beach_ trip.

  
  


How will she dodge their mom? She hopes their mother doesn’t stop to say hello or worse. Nothing good will come from this, she knows. 

  
  


-

  
  


Twenty minutes later, Hope walks back to her dorm hall. Her steps are slow and she sometimes stops, debating whether or not to pretend she had been kidnapped or something—just to get out of going.

  
  


She spots Sebastian in the parking lot and waves at him, before heading back to her dorm room to grab her stuff.

  
  


“Hey,” Maya greets her and Hope nods at her, her throat replaced with glass. She doesn’t acknowledge Josie—who’s still in the room—and simply moves over to grab her bag, which is on top of her bed. 

  
  


She grabs her stuff and heads to where she last saw Sebastian, telling Maya, “I’ll be in the car.” Hope wonders why she’s allowing the pair to be alone together again. Maya waves goodbye, and Hope hears the other two talking about shoes or sandals, before she closes the door behind her.

  
  


She also thinks about how friendly Maya is acting towards the other brunette. Isn’t there a girl code for that or something? Maya knows about Josie—their situation and Hope’s feelings—but it seems like it isn’t stopping her from becoming Josie’s friend. Hope feels sort of betrayed, but knows how charismatic Maya can be. She can’t blame her for it.

  
  


When Hope reaches the shuttle van, she finds that no one else is there yet—except Sebastian. Her friend looks very excited, and he’s pacing back and forth in front of the vehicle that they’ve decided to rent out for the trip. 

  
  


“Wow, Hope Mikaleson has blessed us with her presence,” Sebastian says sarcastically when he first sees the blue-eyed girl, pressing his hands together in a praying gesture. He opens the door to the blackish-grey van, signaling for her to go in. 

  
  


“Shut up,” Hope rolls her eyes and steps inside, taking Sebastian’s hand so she doesn’t fall. She looks around the inside of the van—it distantly has that new car smell and it’s actually pretty spacious—and decides to go all the way in the back. 

  
  


Hope loves to sit in the back. No one can really irritate her and she doesn’t really have to talk to people. She sits in the window seat, placing her bag on her lap. Sebastian also takes his seat in front of the wheel. He turns up the air-conditioning and the two await the arrival of everyone else.

  
  


Hope takes the time to plug in her earbuds, shuffling her songs. A minute later, Maya plops down next to her and the blue-eyed girl takes out one of her earbuds when she realizes Maya is trying to talk to her. “Excited?” The girl asks, a huge smile on her face.

  
  


“You’re kidding, right?” Hope frowns, putting her right earbud back in. Maya shoves her and Hope ignores it, looking out the window of the parked car. 

  
  


Rafael and Milton hop in together and Lizzie opens the passenger side door, plopping in right next to Sebastian. They kiss chastely, and Hope thinks they look married—like a husband and wife going on vacation. Their happiness makes Hope sort of jealous. The pair’s relationship looks so easy, so doable. Hope wonders why it’s so hard for herself.

  
  


She immediately thinks about her roommate and it must be a coincidence because at the same time Josie and Penelope hop inside the car. Hope looks away quickly, looking down at her phone. It’s so weird how anxious Josie makes her—Hope never wants to get caught staring.

  
  


To make things worse, Josie and Penelope sit right in front of them. Hope thinks the brunette is teasing her—purposefully trying to hurt her. The close proximity of Josie makes Hope’s head spin, and she leans back on her seat, desperately trying to evade her. If Hope leans in too close, she’ll get caught up in the fruity smell of the girl.

  
  


She might die.

  
  


Sebastian gets up from his seat and looks behind him. He counts everyone and then shouts all the way to the back to Maya and Hope, “Where’s Ethan and Sam?”

  
  


Hope doesn’t hear it right away and she pulls out her earbuds—again—when she realizes everyone is looking her way. Maya answers first, “How are we supposed to know? Call them.”

  
  


The auburn-haired girl looks up at Maya, confusedly, and Maya reiterates Sebastian’s question. Hope nods, looking up and slightly standing up to meet Sebastian. “Yeah, I don’t know either.”

  
  


Sebastian rubs at his forehead and pulls out his phone. He starts to call either of the two, but then shortly hangs up when he looks out the passenger window and sees them. It also causes Hope to glance and look up, and both of them are running across the quad like idiots.

  
  


Milton opens the door from the inside and they rush in, Sam immediately apologizing, “Sorry we lost track of time!” Their faces are both red and Sam is near dry-heaving.

  
  


“Doing what?” Sebastian asks, a sly look on his face. He gestures for them to sit and he also sits back down, starting the engine.

  
  


“We were playing a board game,” Ethan says quickly, tossing his bag next to Maya’s feet. Maya frowns, kicking it away.

  
  


“What game?” Maya questions, looking wearily between the pair. Hope won’t lie, it also catches her attention. Maya and Hope look at each other, both suspicious.

  
  


“Monopoly!”

  
  


“Scrabble!”

  
  


A silence explodes in the car—louder than even the air-conditioning—and Ethan and Sam pause, not meeting anyone’s eyes. Sam explains, “We were playing them at the same time…”

  
  


“Yeah,” Maya speaks up at the obvious lie, her face torn. “Sure.”

  
  


Hope decides to ignore it, knowing that they’ll all inevitably talk about it later. Whatever _it_ is. Sebastian pulls out of the parking lot and turns up the radio. Hope doesn’t care much for the music, plugging her own earbuds back in.

  
  


She leans her head against the window. This is going to be a long, _long_ drive.

  
  


-

  
  


Ten minutes later, Hope watches as Josie places her head on Penelope’s shoulder. She really hadn’t been trying to pay the girl any attention, but her eyes kept on glancing towards the back of the brunette’s head—an involuntary action.

  
  


It hurts her more than she’d ever imagined—the way Josie’s head slides comfortably in the junction of Penelope’s shoulder. She tries to peel her eyes away, but it’s as if they want to burn.

  
  


Attracted to the flames.

Hope shakes her head, a pathetic, sad little smile on her face. She really needs to stop allowing her mind to wander off on its own.

  
  


Just as she summons the will to stop staring at Josie, Maya elbows her in the side. Hope continues to look out of the window, thinking it an accident. After the fourth time in a row, she whips her head at Maya. 

  
  


“What?” she bites, exasperated. Maya only grins, stretching her leg back slowly and then kicking forward with all the subtlety of a three-horned giraffe. She directly hits her mark: the seat in front of Hope, which is coincidentally Josie’s own. 

  
  


Josie’s head shoots forward, right off of Penelope’s shoulder. She turns around in her seat with a scowl. 

  
  


“Who did that?” Her gaze locks right onto Hope’s, who is conveniently left to take the blame. The auburn-haired girl looks to Maya, only to discover that her friend is pretending to be listening to music. Her earbuds aren’t even connected to her phone. 

  
  


Josie sighs tiredly, rolling her eyes as if Hope is some petulant child. The second she turns back into her seat—back into Penelope’s shoulder—Hope sends a deep glare at Maya. The other girl looks back at her with a small smile, before pulling her foot back and kicking Josie’s seat again. 

  
  


And again, Josie turns around and tells Hope to stop. Hope raises her hands in surrender until Josie backs off. This nasty cycle goes on for the next five minutes, and each and every time Maya leaves Hope to take the blame. After enough kicks that Hope stops counting, she tries to physically stop Maya from delivering another hit. 

  
  


It doesn’t work. 

  
  


Josie reacts more quickly this time, turning around fast enough that Penelope startles out of her seat and twists her body around, too. Both girls stare at Hope accusingly, but the latter is almost amused. She only narrows her eyes and smirks slightly before turning back. 

  
  


“Can you _stop_ doing that?” Josie continues to stare at Hope with thinly-veiled frustration, enough for the Mikaelson to shift uncomfortably underneath her gaze. 

  
  


“That wasn’t me,” Hope tells her, for what surely must be the hundredth time, but if the look on Josie’s face is anything to go by, she clearly still doesn’t believe Hope. Her stare only intensifies, fissuring through the cracks of the wall Hope has built around herself. 

  
  


Finally, just before Hope can crumble to dust, Josie huffs and turns around. Hope immediately gives Maya another look to cut it out, which goes ignored again. This time, Maya sends a last, final kick to the back of Josie’s seat, harder than all the times before. 

  
  


“That’s it!” Josie jumps out of her seat and lunges at Hope in one, swift movement, her hands outstretched in front of her. One is tightened into a white-knuckled fist, the other holding the color beach bag that Hope had noticed before. 

  
  


She swings the bag across Hope’s face, who barely dodges it. The auburn-haired girl lets out a small yelp, leaning back into her own seat to get away the best she can. The _click_ of a seatbelt buckle releasing is all the warning Hope gets before Josie drops the bag altogether and throws herself on top of her. 

  
  


The car instantly explodes into chaos.

  
  


Sebastian starts yelling about how they’re blocking the rear-view mirror, Maya starts wheezing in between bouts of laughter, Penelope is desperately trying to hold Josie back, Hope is _desperately trying_ to shield her face from the brunette’s swinging fists. 

  
  


They only pull apart when Lizzie marches down the aisle of the shuttle van, pulling the back of Josie’s hair to tear her off of Hope. 

  
  


“You two are not ruining my romantic beach weekend getaway for…” 

  
  


She pauses, looking between them. The look in her eye turns final.

  
  


“Whatever _this_ is.” 

  
  


Hope breathes heavily as Lizzie stomps away, pulling her sister with her. She is still trying to inhale all the oxygen Josie has so deprived her of. The girl can _hit_ , that’s for sure. 

  
  


Hope’s pretty certain she’ll have two distinct handprints on her forehead and cheek by the time they actually get to the beach. They still have to go to the market, Hope remembers from Sebastian’s message.

  
  


She turns towards Maya, the perpetrator of this whole series of events, “Really?” Hope’s breaths are still shallow and she struggles to get the word out.

  
  


Hope expects an apology, but what she gets instead is, “You’re welcome.” Maya smiles at her and then looks away from her, staring straight ahead. Hope pulls the girl back by the arm.

  
  


“I got the shit beat out of me,” the blue-eyed girl deadpans, shaking her head slightly. “Why should I be thanking you?”

  
  


Maya points to Josie—who is sitting in the front of the van behind Lizzie. Penelope isn’t with her, still in their old-shared seat, separated by Lizzie. Maya smirks like she’s done something.

  
  


“You idiot!” Hope whisper-shouts, largely upset at her friend. She watches as Penelope gets up from her and Josie’s old seat, and moves over to Josie, sitting beside the girl again. All the way in the front. “You see? Penelope is just gonna go back to her.”

  
  


_And now she’s just further away from me._


	20. Chapter 20

“We’re here!” Lizzie yells and is the first one to jump out of the car, walking to the store front hand-in-hand with Sebastian. Hope looks at her surroundings and gets up slowly, her legs hardly willing and her energy depleted from the day’s events. It’s only the afternoon but it feels like midnight, time slipping away easily in Hope’s state. 

  
  


Nothing ever goes her way and the annoying nature of it seems to bleed into her day, her bad fortune following her around. Like clockwork. Every single day, every single moment.

  
  


“What? It’s only been like twenty minutes…” Maya wonders, her voice raising in excitement. She clasps her hands together like a child and picks up her beach bag, ready to go to the beach. But Hope stops her, a heavy hand on her arm. Maya turns to face her immediately and the blue-eyed girl moves her head to the left, signaling for her friend to look out the window.

  
  


Realization mirrors embarrassment and Maya drops her stuff back onto the floor. The brunette slightly blushes at the looks Milton and Rafael throw her but she recovers easily enough. She flips Hope off before jumping down from the vehicle as well.

  
  


“You’re a dumbass,” Hope mumbles, but follows after the girl. She takes her wallet to buy a sandwich or snack—she’s surprisingly hungry. It’s funny that she even still has an appetite.

  
  


The group splits up after entering the store and Hope watches as Maya instantly goes towards the candy aisle. The store is a well-known market and Hope knows right away which exact direction to head in. It seems as though everyone else does, as Hope and Sam are the only ones left at the front together.

  
  


It’s one of the closest grocery stores to the university, so it’s familiar with the student population. Hope wouldn’t be surprised if she recognized or saw someone she knew here.

  
  


She doesn’t know exactly what she’s craving but knows she’ll probably find something good in the crackers section. It’s one of the last aisles on the far right and Hope tries not to shiver at the coolers next to her. Why does it always have to be so fucking cold in grocery stores? Or any kind of stores for that matter.

  
  


“I’m gonna go find something to eat,” Hope tells Sam and then wanders away, throwing her hand behind her back in an awkward wave. She pats her cover-up down and pulls at her own arms, trying not to feel so cold.

  
  


“I’ll be with Maya!” Sam yells back and Hope only distantly hears it, already far away. 

  
  


She turns the corner, looking at the shelves around her. Nothing really looks all that appetizing but she knows she should just buy something. Hope will be even more hungry later if she doesn’t get something right now.

  
  


The blue-eyed girl is debating whether to buy chips or goldfish crackers, when she feels a presence behind her. She first acknowledges it as another customer, so she backs away slightly so the person can pass by. 

  
  


Whoever it is, doesn’t. Hope furrows her eyebrows, unsure if she should just walk away. The person stays there for a second longer so Hope swivels around completely. She guesses that it has to be Maya. She’s the only friend who keeps trying to scare her at the most inopportune times, “Maya, stop trying to be scary, it’s not working—”

  
  


Hope’s words are cut short when she meets brown eyes and upside-down lips. Her breath catches in her throat and she steps back once and then twice when Josie doesn’t move. It alarms her and the familiar face doesn’t appear to help her anxiety. 

  
  


It’s an obnoxious feeling—something she can’t run away from. All she can do is just deal and live with it as the brunette in front of her stares with a burning intensity.

  
  


“I’m sorry for, uh, earlier,” Josie says softly and worries her bottom lip between her teeth anxiously. Hope shivers, but it isn’t because of the freezers anymore. She looks to the right and the left to make sure no one sees them—together. “I acted like a kid.” 

  
  


Josie’s eyes fall to the floor and Hope can’t help but become irritated and annoyed with her. She can’t just apologize and act like this—act normal. Not after the past few days. How can Josie all of a sudden just _talk_ with her? After kissing her and then just leaving her?

  
  


She wants to accept the apology—to kiss her once more and say that it’s okay, that _they’re_ okay—but all that comes out is hostility.

  
  


“Let me guess,” Hope bites, a harsh laugh falling from her lips. She isn’t mad about what happened—although she did get her ass kicked—but she’s mad about everything else—everything else that has to do with Josie. “You were just getting it out of your system?” 

  
  


Josie’s features turn regretful and she all but grimaces at the question. Hope’s heart swells at how Josie turns speechless, at how _she_ can make Josie look so restless. 

  
  


It’s very, very draining how Hope can be mad and simultaneously completely enthralled with the girl. Fuck. She makes an effort to remember her anger, to recall the past few days.

  
  


“Stop using that against me,” Josie huffs and leans back on the side of the aisle. Instantly, Hope is glad for the new space. Now her head can stop feeling fuzzy. 

  
  


“Then what do you want me to say?” Hope asks, her voice devoid of any real energy. Her words seem to fall limp and disabeled. She doesn’t know what she should say, what she should do to make this all better or if there even is some way to make it all better. 

  
  


Josie steps once closer to her. Her foot drags across the tile, a desperate push against the air. The blue-eyed girl, knowing the implication of it, slightly moves her hand up in response. Josie stops, able to recognize the red light, able to see the distressed look in Hope’s face.

  
  


Hope cuts herself off short. She exhales briefly, then—for the second time—says the opposite of what she really wants to. The words sound like paste and itch her tongue as they glide out of her mouth. “Stop trying to talk to me and stop coming up to me. I’m serious. Especially when you act like you don’t care about me and then do this.”

  
  


She doesn’t know when she’s started this habit—of not owning up to her feelings.

  
  


Hope shakes her head, disbelief flowing in her blood. “You always do this.” She scratches her scalp, pulling at her hair, trying to calm her oncoming headache.

  
  


“Do what?” Josie questions lightly, turning around to look at the snacks on her side of the shelf. It obviously isn’t what she came for, but Hope allows her to do so anyways. It wouldn’t be good if one of their friends came around the corner and the two were acting...civil. 

  
  


“You’re mad at me and then you want me,” Hope turns around as well, searching for something and nothing at the same time. Wow, those oreos look good. 

  
  


“—Or you _kiss_ me and then you’re mad at me.”

  
  


Josie hushes her almost immediately, turning around so fast Hope thinks she’ll get whiplash. She doesn’t get closer to the girl, however, and simply puts her fingers to her lips like a librarian would.

  
  


“Oh, I’m sorry,” Hope bluffs, her voice feigning no sincere regret. She pauses and it’s all a moment needs. It’s a silence that’s dangerous, as mischief falls out of the crevices, engulfing the air between them. Hope second thinks it but smiles anyways—a destructive, up-to-no-good smile—and Josie’s face locks up in panic. Curious but panicked.

  
  


Hope turns slightly to make sure no one is around them, her eyes darting everywhere. She nods happily when she knows there are no people even near them, but Josie doesn’t catch on. 

  
  


“Josie Saltzman kissed m—”

  
  


The words are yelled, but are also halfway cut off by Josie clamping a hand over Hope’s mouth. Hope is almost surprised at how far Josie had jumped across to meet her. Hope pushes her away, a hand to her shoulder.

  
  


“You can’t do that,” Josie whispers, her voice still hushed. She still looks panicked, her head turning right and left to see if anyone heard or saw them. “Are you insane?!” 

  
  


“I’ll do whatever I want,” Hope stings, words filled with vice and utter trouble. It’s pure ice—the deep ocean biting the specs of sand on the seafloor. Josie looks taken aback, but Hope can’t recognize any sadness other than her own. It makes her more irked. “What do you want? Why are you here?” 

  
  


The auburn-haired girl seems to get more upset as she talks, her anger exacerbating. Hope picks up a bag of chips, trying to distract herself from how furious she feels. 

  
  


“Just listen to me,” Josie explains, but her words don’t make sense. They’re vague and meaningless to Hope’s ears. A deaf noise playing in the background. A silent fucking film.

  
  


“I’m sorry for everything,” Josie continues, sounding more serious than before. It’s still not convincing enough. “I am. I got mad at you for no reason...Not when I’ve been doing the same thing with…”

  
  


She trails off, but Hope knows it’s on purpose. Josie doesn’t want to say the name. Why doesn’t she want to say the name? 

  
  


“Penelope?” Hope asks. The girl in front of her nods guiltily. Just saying the word makes Hope’s vision blur and she feels a knife slip through her—jealousy. 

  
  


“Then how about you stop with her? Stop doing this to me.” Hope sounds desperate, she knows. But she can’t stop. She chews on her lip for a moment, dreading Josie’s answer.

  
  


“I can’t,” Josie mumbles, not looking Hope in the eye. Hope feels a buzzing in her pocket—her phone—but she ignores it. It buzzes again a second time, but she ignores _that_ too.

  
  


“Why?” Hope pushes further, needing a better answer. She won’t accept anything less—anything less than nothing.

  
  


Josie almost blows up—a ball of heat thrown into gasoline. One of Josie’s hands ball up into a fist and the one other one rocks slightly back and forth with her arm. The brunette shakes her head and opens her mouth several times without uttering a word. “Fine.”

  
  


She pauses, looking Hope thoroughly in the eye as if to tell her that Hope had wanted this. 

  
  


“I don’t have to worry about anything with her,” Josie sighs, the sound falling from her lips so effortlessly. Like she had needed it. Something cruel bursts into Hope’s chest and she feels it bubble up to the point of no return. “—I don’t have to explain myself to my family about her.” 

  
  


She hesitates before her next sentence. The next words are unmistakable to Hope. 

  
  


“Not like I would have to with you.”

  
  


A sadness paints Hope red and when she blinks, she sees nothing but blood—but pain. A dark chuckle throws itself deep from within Hope’s throat—her heart laughing at the agony of it all painfully. “You don’t even like your family.” 

  
  


Josie’s shoulders tense, and it’s one of the only signs that this is getting to her.

  
  


“Of course I do,” Josie takes a deep breath, calming herself down. Hope raises a definitive eyebrow at her, and the brunette shakes her head, “I love my sister and my mom.”

  
  


The auburn-haired girl doesn’t miss the total disregard for Josie’s father. When Josie doesn’t say anything else, Hope rubs the back of her neck. A million thoughts are running through her mind, but all their conversation is going is in circles.

  
  


“God, you’re killing me,” Hope huffs once the hand has been removed. Her eyebrows furrow downward and when she swallows, her ears ache horribly. “I don’t think I can do this with you anymore.”

  
  


It seems to turn a switch on in Josie’s brain as her back straightens abruptly and her face lights up in a melancholic sprout of anger.

  
  


“ _I’m_ killing _you_?” The brunette points at herself and then to Hope, emphasizing the words with her fingers. Although her fingers don’t actually touch Hope’s chest, the shadow still feels like a stab—stretching out an already open wound. A wry laugh emerges from Hope’s roommate.

  
  


“I can’t _breathe_ when I’m around you,” Josie follows up, loud and clear. Hope momentarily dips her eyes down to Josie’s lips, which seem to be trembling. The image burns her and she looks up to the ceiling, feeling herself catch on fire. Josie leans back onto the aisle front and exhales slowly, her lips twisting against each other.

  
  


Her fingers play with the shelves absentmindedly and Hope catches herself reaching out, but wills her hand away. It takes every bit of her last restraint. She looks Josie in the eye, unable to trust herself with the chore of talking.

  
  


The admission has her heart racing, beating so heavily against her chest she wonders if Josie can hear it. She wonders if Josie feels this same ache, this same _pain_. Josie doesn’t back down, their eyes stuck to each other. 

  
  


Can Josie _feel_ it?

  
  


Hope feels her back pocket buzz again and this time she—begrudgingly—pulls it out, disconnecting their eye contact. It’s Maya.

  
  


“Hey! Where are you?” Maya asks through the phone, and Hope puts her phone closer to her ear when it’s hard to make out. She understands a second after. Josie gets closer to her, and Hope is sure she’s trying to hear what’s going on.

  
  


Hope slightly ignores Maya’s question, “I’m coming up to the check-out right now.” She glances back at Josie, who looks puzzled. Hope mouths Maya’s name and then turns her attention back to her phone. 

  
  


“Also, do you know where Josie is?” Maya questions and the name-drop makes Hope’s heart start to race. God, this really needs to stop.

  
  


Hope shakes her head physically but then she realizes she’s on the phone. She hopes Josie isn’t laughing at her. Maya clarifies, “Is she with you?” 

  
  


“Uh, no,” Hope tries casually. She ends up coughing the words out as her breath catches in her throat. She locks eyes with Josie in front of her, “Haven’t seen her.”

  
  


“Oh okay, well if you see her when you’re coming over, tell her that we're all done,” Maya says and she sounds like she’s chewing on something. Hope concludes that it must be the candy.

  
  


“Will do,” Hope promises and then hangs up, falling back into the tortuous silence with Josie. It becomes too uncomfortable so when an employee passes by them, Hope takes the opportunity.

  
  


She speaks up immediately, acting kind and friendly, “Hey sir?” Josie’s face becomes puzzled once again and Hope would feel bad if it were any other moment. She would.

  
  


When she gets his attention, Hope points over to Josie and then says with a shrug of her shoulders, “She’s stealing.”

  
  


The blue-eyed girl then walks away, forcing Josie to fend for herself.

  
  


She distinctly hears, “Wait, no. This isn’t how it looks.” And then after that, she hears what sounds like a desperate plea. It causes Hope to smile and the grin ends up eating her face whole. 

  
  


_Wow, I’m funny_.

  
  


“What’d you get, Hope?” Maya asks her moments later when she spots the group. Hope stops her movement and looks at her empty hands. She had forgotten to take the chips with her. And buy them.

  
  


_Shit._

  
  


A blush falls over her, “I’m not hungry.” Lizzie gives her a funny look, but doesn’t say anything. The boys don’t even acknowledge her so she thinks she can get away with it easily enough.

  
  


Wrong.

  
  


“Wait, didn’t you tell me you were starving?” Maya starts, looking at the girl like she belongs in a mental asylum. This isn’t even that serious.

  
  


Hope laughs shallowly, “You must have heard me wrong.” Hope walks past the girl and tries to hide the way her stomach grumbles. Really? How convenient.

  
  


Hope starts to walk out the door, but realizes no one is following her. Oh. They’re waiting for Josie. She debates just going back inside of the van and asking Sebastian to unlock it, but knows it’ll look rude _and_ weird.

  
  


So she stays alongside Sam, awaiting the brunette. Josie joins them only a minute later, apologizing for taking so long. Hope meets her eyes, but it only lasts a second—fear overcoming the both of them.

  
  


“Aren’t you going to get anything to eat, Josie?” Rafael asks and Hope’s heart shrinks in her chest. She also hates how his voice sounds so...caring. God, does everyone have a crush on Josie? But she also hopes that Josie can come up with a good excuse. Definitely not something along the lines of _I’m not hungry._

  
  


“Oh, shoot,” Josie mumbles under her breath, the reminder causing panic the same way it did with Hope. The brunette’s face flushes before she says, “I forgot about that.” 

  
  


_Really?_

  
  


“How’d you forget?” Penelope asks beside her, the girl herself holding up a plastic bag full of food items. It’s a tease more than a question—Penelope’s voice lowers and a smile accompanies the words. Penelope moves closer to her and Hope hates how there’s almost no distance between them. Their hips even bump every so often.

  
  


“I was talking with this employee,” Josie explains while Sebastian unlocks the vehicle. Hope _also_ hates how there’s only one entrance. Now she has to listen to Penelope and Josie...talk. However, Hope doesn’t miss how Josie’s eyes glance towards her when she talks. 

  
  


“—He asked me about my, uh,” Josie glances downwards and finds the excuse she’s looking for. “...Shoes.” 

  
  


“Oh,” Penelope seems to take the bait. Josie’s shoes _are_ nice. “Well, you can take food from me if you want. I bought a lot of stuff.”

  
  


“Thanks,” Josie smiles sheepishly—attractively—and Hope can’t stop herself from envying Penelope for the fifth time today. It seems that every time she tries to get one over Josie, it ends up biting her in the ass. 

  
  


Hope carries herself back to her seat, feeling heavier than before. Their recent conversation spurs hope into the auburn-headed girl but the rest of it leaves her confused. She sits down, turning her music on.

  
  


-

  
  


It’s been almost an hour into the car drive when Maya nudges her, trying to get her attention. Hope takes out her earbuds, sending the girl an irritated look. “What do you want?”

  
  


“Lizzie let me connect my phone to the bluetooth,” Maya smiles, holding her phone up. Hope sighs, not really caring. 

  
  


“Wow, nice,” Hope says sarcastically, plugging her earbuds back in when Maya rips them out of her ears by the chord. The blue-eyed girl groans, hitting Maya instantly, “What was that for?”

  
  


“Listen to my music,” Maya pouts, keeping Hope’s earbuds captive. She only pulls them away further whenever Hope tries to reach for them. Lizzie yells from the passenger seat to Maya, telling her to put something on already.

  
  


“Well now I don’t have a choice,” Hope grumbles, comfortably leaning back into her seat. She waits for Maya to play something and then seconds later a song comes on.

  
  


The Best of Both Worlds...from Hannah Montana.

  
  


“You’re not serious,” Hope says, looking around the van to see if anyone else hears what she hears. Hope tries not to sing the lyrics in her head. She tries _really_ hard not to. She whispers to Maya, “Turn it off.”

  
  


It’s as if Maya didn’t hear her, because Maya doesn’t respond or look at her.

  
  
  


She only tucks her phone away in her jacket pocket. Hope’s friend starts to sing—more like shout—the lyrics and then Hope hears someone yell, “Turn it up!”

  
  


Was that...Penelope?

  
  


Hope can’t help but laugh when Lizzie does indeed higher the music. She also doesn’t just higher it by a little. She turns it up by a lot, up to the point where the van almost starts to shake.

  
  


Even Ethan starts to dance in his seat. He’s next to Sam who is recording all of it with her phone, giggling crazily. If Hope was tired thirty minutes ago, she’s now completely awake.

  
  


Sebastian starts to rock back and forth in his seat and Lizzie puts a hand on his shoulder, stopping him before he can cause an accident. Hope does acknowledge that she herself looks like a buzzkill—she’s not dancing or singing. Hell, even Rafael is singing and Hope is sure she’s never even seen the boy talk in front of her. At least not before today.

  
  


Hope’s eyes inevitably wander to Josie, who is mouthing the lyrics. It’s quite endearing and _very_ appealing to Hope’s traveling eyes. The brown-eyed girl’s smile is huge, up to the point where her teeth show. Hope thinks it’s the first time she’s ever seen Josie smile so big. All Hope is ever met with is endless frowns and anger by her roommate. This is sort of refreshing, even if she knows Josie isn’t smiling because of her.

  
  


Soon enough Josie turns around fully and catches her. Hope’s face burns with abashment, something light-pink on her cheeks. The girl’s right eyebrow raises and Hope feels every square inch of her skin light up on fire.

  
  


Josie’s eyes don’t falter, however, and Hope cracks a small smile herself when she notices the playful look on Josie’s face. It’s a very contagious smile, something Hope catches easily.

  
  


Is it just Hope when Josie’s smile grows?

  
  


Flowers build up in Hope’s chest and when she breathes, it’s somehow easier. Hope’s mood turns instantly better and she looks down, trying to wipe the stupid grin off of her face.

  
  


The song ends soon but Maya’s Disney playlist continues for the next hour. Maya does hand Hope back her earbuds, but Hope decides to just pay attention to what’s going on in the van—or more so Josie.

  
  


-

  
  


They reach the beach house two hours later and Hope distantly wonders if they’re going to stay the night there or drive back home. It’s already pretty late, and if the option is the latter then they’re only going to have an hour or so here.

  
  


They probably should've left earlier, Hope ultimately realizes. She doesn’t spend another thought on it, though, because Sebastian just pulled up onto the driveway and anxiety clouds her immediately.

  
  


She’s really hoping their mom isn’t here. Everyone jumps out of the car, and they all head towards the front door. Lizzie reaches in her pocket for a key and then tries to open it.

  
  


“What’s taking so long?” Josie mumbles in front of Hope, looking at her sister with barely concealed irritation.

  
  


“It’s not going in,” Lizzie says, digging her shoulder into the door like she can force her way in. Hope pouts, her bag getting heavier with every passing second that it’s in her hand. She drops it to the floor, knowing that this will probably take a while.

  
  


“Let me try,” Josie grabs the key from her sister and pushes it in easily enough, turning the knob open on the first try. Josie crosses her arms flat against her chest in pride and turns to face Lizzie, a wide smirk on her face.

  
  


“Wow, look at you, ending world hunger,” Lizzie drawls and her nose flares up in anger as she pushes her sister aside, going inside first. Sebastian follows right after her, carrying both of their bags.

  
  


Josie shakes her head, a distinct smile on her face, before she enters as well. She heads up the stairs instantly and Hope knows she’s probably going to her room or something. It _is_ their house. When Penelope doesn’t go after her, Hope tries really hard not to follow the girl—not to sneak up behind her like Josie always seems to do to Hope.

  
  


Lizzie isn’t a good hostess at all and the rest of the friends are left in one of the living spaces, sitting on the couch. The blonde pops her head out a minute later, “You guys are welcomed to whatever, by the way.” 

  
  


She says it casually and with a very careless attitude and Hope guesses that they probably aren’t getting a house tour or anything. She seems to forget something, because a moment after she adds, “We’re going to the beach in thirty minutes so get ready.”

  
  


Hope, Sam, and Maya take Lizzie’s vagueness as an excuse to look around the house. Hope leaves her stuff near the front door. They go to the backyard first and when they all first see a pool, Sam comments on it quickly, “If you’re next to the beach, why do you need a pool?”

  
  


“I know. The pool and the beach are the exact same things,” Hope says sarcastically, but Sam doesn’t appear to catch the sarcasm. Hope would rather go to the pool than the beach, but she doesn’t want to look picky or spoiled. The sand isn’t really her thing.

  
  


“Exactly!” Hope’s friend utters, nodding her head. Hope chooses not to enlighten her on the joke, only looking around at the extravagant features of the pool. There are several waterfalls everywhere and the plants surrounding the entirety of the backyard make it look _very_ tropical.

  
  


It’s almost not even close to how a pool should look like. It resembles a pond better. A big, humongous pond. It kind of reminds Hope of her old house—with her parents—but she blinks the thought away.

  
  


“Guys, we shouldn’t even be talking. What if they have cameras…” Maya’s voice drops to a whisper before she continues any further. “...And can hear us?”

  
  


“We’re not even saying anything bad,” Hope remarks, trying to ignore Maya’s stupidity. They’re now on the edge of the pool and Hope slightly wants to push Maya in. For fun.

  
  


She overcomes the urge and shoves her a little bit just to scare her. It’s not enough to make her fall in, but somehow— _somehow_ —Maya trips, falling backwards and instantly submerging herself into the water. Hope hears a loud splash before Maya comes back up for air, “How fucking dare you!”

  
  


Hope starts to laugh hysterically, and then Sam comes at her, trying to push her in. Hope dodges her, side-stepping to the point where she’s nowhere near the spot Sam is running at. Sam, unable to stop herself, also falls into the pool, going down with flailing arms.

  
  


Hope laughs insanely harder and both of her friends are pouting, soaked in their clothes. However, neither of them make a move to get out of the pool, so it can’t be that cold. “How can you guys suck so bad—”

  
  


Her bouts of laughter stops short when she hears a voice—a female, older voice.

  
  


“Hi ladies!” Hope turns around and is met with a blonde woman coming their way, greeting them rather excitedly. In all of a millisecond, Hope is filled with panic and uneasiness. She connects the dots. It has to be the twins’ mother. She’s seen the lady before—once—on the move-in day of college.

  
  


Hope looks around, trying to find some way to get out of this situation. She can’t talk to their mom. She can’t. She eyes the water, shaking her head at what she’s about to do. She inhales quickly and then jumps in, immersing herself into the deep end. 


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the sea speaks more honestly to those willing to drown. - JH Hard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, sorry it took me awhile to update. i was supposed to update yesterday but i got called into work and wasn't happy with where it ended so i just wanted to add more. thank u for staying with me :)

While underneath the water, Hope debates just drowning. The little oxygen in her brain decides otherwise, and in a second she’s up again, bobbing her head to the surface of the pool. 

  
  


She hides behind one of the small waterfalls in the corner, ducking her head so that the water hits the front side of her body. Perhaps the water will distort the image of her face and Caroline won’t recognize her. Would their mother _even_ recognize her?

  
  


Hope doesn’t think so. They’ve never met before and the only connection is through her father. 

  
  


“Getting started already, girls?” the lady asks, a teasing smirk touching her face. It’s a playful thing to say, and Hope gets the vibe that it’s part of her personality.

  
  


The woman looks far too young and her blonde hair falls down effortlessly across her shoulders, down in beach waves. She’s fair-skinned and her voice is also fairly high. There’s a smile on her lips—a bright one—and her teeth show to meet it.

  
  


The waterfall in front of Hope’s face makes it a little hard to see, but she can still notice how the woman’s body is covered with a black sundress, which hugs her hips delightedly. 

  
  


Hope swims closer, now past the waterfall. She makes a move over to Sam and positions herself behind her, trying to continue to hide.

  
  


Sam lets her.

  
  


“Hi! Sorry about that. We kind of all fell in,” Sam says, raising her voice so that the blonde can hear her over the loud splashing of the waterfall. Hope kicks her from behind for the lame-ass excuse.

  
  


The blue-eyed girl rubs at her eyes and then blinks, trying to clear her vision. It clears soon enough and when she opens her eyes again, she swears that Josie’s mother is looking at her, examining her. Maybe Hope isn’t so concealed.

  
  


Hope finds that the blonde woman’s smile becomes more tight-lipped and there’s a tinge of sadness written across her forehead. Hope’s close enough to notice it. She’s seen it in her own father before.

  
  


She remembers the expression oh-so well. What hurts her so much to see it, is how the look wasn’t a single one-time emotion for him. It’s an expression that took hold of him whenever she saw him. Until he died. The person in front of her seems to hold it the same way—be colored the same way.

  
  


She never knew what had him always so shaken—so upset. It couldn’t just be about the company, right? There was always something more. There had to be.

  
  


How can one look so happy and unhappy at the same time?

  
  


“No worries, I was just checking up on you guys,” she says kindly, looking at the watch on her wrist. Her smile seems to dissipate as she checks the time, “I have to go. I just wanted to say hi to everybody and make sure you all got here safe.”

  
  


She sounds very caring and protective, and Hope wonders why she’s being so...nice. Is this just a part of her personality as well? However, Hope knows that what she really means by her words is that she was just checking to make sure her daughter and a boy weren’t at the house all alone. 

  
  


But, Hope is glad for the farewell. She was really hoping they wouldn’t have to go through introductions. What was she even supposed to say?

  
  


_I’m Hope Mikaelson?_

  
  


No way. 

  
  


The woman waves, and the three in the pool say goodbye—even Hope. The blue-eyed girl watches as she saunters away, her steps light against the concrete. Touching it but not touching it. Was this the woman her father was in love with?

  
  


It makes her sort of sad. To experience this without him—to live without him. Without both of them. She feels this grief crawl up her throat, itching to free tears down her eyes. She dunks her head in the water, trying not to feel so pathetic. This wouldn’t bode well with her friends. Not at all.

  
  


Sam and Maya get up from the pool, using the steps on the shallow end. When Hope tries to use them—tries to get out of the pool as well—they shove her back in the pool, pushing her back down under the water.

  
  


Now, after the third time of being pushed back into the pool, Hope swims in the middle defeated. Her friends are guarding the only way to get out. She tries to distract them multiple times, yelling obscene things or pointing at a fake bird, but they don’t budge.

  
  


The auburn-haired girl groans, a large pout on her face, “You guys are being so immature.”

  
  


“You’re the one that pushed us in!” Sam yells, still soaked. She chooses not to grab a towel, standing guard still. Hope starts to get irritated. She really just needs to get out and dry off. They’re supposed to be leaving for the beach any second now.

  
  


“You both fell in by yourself.” She swims in circles, tearing off her short-shorts and cover-up while in the pool, and throwing them on the pavement. “Come on, you guys can’t stay here forever.”

  
  


“You’re right,” Maya crosses her arms, pressing her lips together. She smiles slightly, “I have a beach trip to get going to. Sam, you know what to do.” 

  
  


Maya gestures to Sam to keep guard, but Sam isn’t exactly having it.

  
  


“I’m not your servant,” Sam pouts, and when they get into a fight about it, they become distracted enough to where Hope can slip out of the pool.

  
  


_Dumbasses._

  
  


She picks up her soaked clothes, putting them out onto a chair to dry in the sun. She’s so glad that she chose to wear her bathing suit and not underwear.

  
  


When she finally looks back at her friends, Hope can’t even tell what they’re arguing about anymore. She can’t hear what they’re saying but they look more mad than a minute ago.

  
  


They finally seem to realize that Hope’s out of the pool because Maya sighs miserably, “Look what you did!” 

  
  


“Whatever, both of you shut up,” Hope says, making her way back towards the pair. She looks at Maya, “Go get us towels.”

  
  


Maya throws her a pointed look.

  
  


“Please?” Hope adds, decidedly _not_ kind.

  
  


“Fine. Do you guys have towels in your bags or should I ask for them?” Maya questions, tapping her foot on the floor impatiently.

  
  


“Oh shoot,” Hope says, realizing she forgot to bring a towel.

  
  


“ _That’s_ what I forgot!” Sam also says at the exact same time, her eyes widening dramatically. Maya rolls their eyes at them, but stops mid-roll when she realizes she _also_ didn’t bring a towel.

  
  


“Just go ask Josie or Lizzie for them,” Hope tells her, trying not to blush when she says Josie’s name. She says it as casually as she can, but regrets bringing either of them up at the mischievous glint that arises in Maya’s eye.

  
  


“How about you go do that?” Maya suggests, her voice soaked in trouble. 

  
  


“You offered first,” Hope frowns, not fond of where this is heading. She looks at Sam, hoping she’ll offer to go get the towels, but the girl is obviously ignoring her eye-line.

  
  


“Did I?” Maya asks, stepping back a few times. As she gets farther from Hope, her smile continues to get bigger, stretching past the point of catastrophe. 

  
  


Maya then proceeds to _jump_ into the pool—falling into an elegant dive—and Sam follows after her, somehow getting the hint.

  
  


“Wait, guys, don’t do this,” Hope pleads, following them and remaining next to the pool. “What if their mom is still in there?”

  
  


“I think I heard a car leave,” Sam says, putting her hand next to her ear in an irritating gesture. Sam then nods her head, as if trying to confirm her own statement, “Yes, I definitely did hear a car leave.”

  
  


“Please, you can’t hear shit—”

  
  


“Toodle-doo now,” Hope’s friend interrupts her, and then waves her off with her hand, splashing the water at her as a signal to go and get them the towels. Hope scoffs at her friends’ behavior; they’ve done this now countless times and Hope knows it’s only because they’re trying to set her up.

  
  


Maya’s suggestion kind of makes Hope think about what her and Josie were talking about earlier. They had lots of time to talk and the auburn-haired girl hopes that it wasn’t about her.

  
  


Why did she leave them alone again?

  
  


Hope dries off in the sun and enters the house through the back door. She goes to the living room—feeling really uncomfortable—and looks for Lizzie. Fortunately for Hope, now Lizzie and Sebastian are back with the friend group, and the pair are sitting next to each other on one of the couches. 

  
  


“Hope! There you are. We’re leaving in like five minutes,” the blonde twin notices Hope, but doesn’t seem to blink at how Hope is already wearing her bathing suit and the fact that her hair is also soaking wet. She can still feel some water drip down her back.

  
  


“Yeah, just, uh, do you have extra towels I can borrow? We were all in your pool…”

  
  


Fuck. Why does Hope feel so awkward? She tries not to shiver at the cold air in the room, but goosebumps spread across her skin anyways. She hugs herself a little, feeling everyone’s eyes land on her. She’s so glad Josie isn’t here.

  
  


“Oh, of course. They should be in the first room to the right if you go down the hallway,” Lizzie points in a direction and Hope counts her lucky stars for the moment. She smiles at the blonde and thanks her, then walks down the hallway.

  
  


She looks through the laundry room but doesn’t spot any towels. Weird. For a second, she debates if she maybe went into the wrong room, so she goes into the neighboring rooms, but nothing is there either. Hope frowns, not really wanting to ask Lizzie for something again.

  
  


After a minute of standing alone—still terribly cold—she goes back into the living room where all of her friends are. She gets Lizzie’s attention, who is now snuggled up to Sebastian, “Hey, there weren’t any there. Do you know any other place?”

  
  


It takes her a whole lot of nerve to speak. She doesn’t like asking for things, especially these kinds of things. Why didn’t she just bring a towel?

  
  


“Huh?” Lizzie murmurs, confused. She pauses and then her eyebrows draw together, “Oh! Josie took them so she could pack them away for us for the beach.”

  
  


Hope waits where she stands, thinking Lizzie will run up and grab them for her. The blonde doesn’t move an inch.

  
  


“Just ask Jo for them. She should be upstairs.”

  
  


What a great hostess.

  
  


Hope spots Penelope on the far end of the couch, who appears to be listening in on their conversation.

  
  


“Hope, I can go get them for you,” Penelope offers, a little too interested. Hope tries to stop the frown that reaches her face—the jealousy that rushes at her bones. It’s so hard. She manages it, though, and pulls a polite smile.

  
  


“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” she says, although she really didn’t want to have to face Josie. It’s just...anything’s better than knowing Penelope’s _there_ , right alongside Josie. Upstairs. Alone. Together.

  
  


She contemplates taking clothes from her bag on the floor and putting them on, but she doesn’t want to have wet clothes. Hope just needs a _damn_ towel.

  
  


Penelope nods, and Hope starts to walk up the stairs, dreading everything and nothing at the same time. There are almost no lights turned on, only one small light fixture in the middle of the hallway.

  
  


She wanders down it, nervously wondering where Josie will be. Hope finds herself kind of hoping that she’ll just stumble across the towels and not have to talk to the brown-eyed girl. She sets her eyes on the floor, looking for any bag that she can dig through for towels.

  
  


“Hope?” 

  
  


The blue-eyed girl recognizes the voice instantly. She turns around, standing up straighter than before. She slides her hands across her stomach, feeling uncomfortable and...insecure.

  
  


“What are you doing upstairs?” Josie questions further, her voice toying below a whisper. Hope almost wants to laugh. They don’t have to pretend—everyone pretty much knows Hope is up here. Josie steps closer to her and as much as Hope wants to back away, her feet stay glued to the carpet.

  
  


Hope realizes how bad this looks. She hopes that she doesn’t look like a stalker or a creep, so she quickly tries to cut the awkwardness in the room. “Where are your towels?”

  
  


“Why?” Josie asks, tilting her head to the side in a cute way that has Hope’s heart pounding instantaneously. Josie’s eyes flicker down and Hope shifts in her position, feeling a little flustered.

  
  


“Maya, Sam, and I fell in the pool,” Hope explains difficultly, locking eyes with Josie. Have Josie’s eyes always been so hypnotizing? Her pupils are considerably blown, and they pull Hope in _just_ enough. 

  
  


“You _fell_?” There’s a slight teasing in her voice and Hope smiles a little at it.

  
  


“To be fair—” Hope starts—a joke almost falling from her tongue—but she doesn’t finish her train of thought. She can’t bring up what happened earlier. That’d be weird and it’s definitely not the time. Josie probably wouldn’t want to hear it right now either. “Nevermind.”

  
  


“Okay…” Josie trails off, puzzlingly. Hope involuntarily shivers once again, and Josie seems to catch it. The apparent goosebumps danced across her arms don’t help. Hope momentarily wonders why the air-conditioning is so high. Josie clearly points it out, “You look cold.”

  
  


Josie doesn’t say anything else and the two stand there, looking at each other for about another five seconds. Why is Josie simply standing there? Hope’s head wavers, feeling dizzy from the girl’s excessive staring. Her chest tightens and she longs to reach out, aching to feel something.

  
  


Hope hadn't even wanted to face the girl, but now it’s so obvious how much she desires Josie’s attention.

  
  


“Are you just going to stand there? Or should I go get the towel myself?” Hope says, a playful glint in her eye, her face blank. She tries not to falter with the way Josie responds.

  
  


“Oh, s-sorry,” Josie stammers, finally moving. She starts walking towards a door and she slides inside, opening the door just enough for Hope to come in as well. Hope stays outside the room, causing Josie to look at her pointedly, “You can come in.”

  
  


“I think I’ll stay here,” Hope sighs softly, trying not to lean against the door frame. She hates how she always grows so shaky in front of the brown-haired girl. Her hands tremble slightly, “It’s probably best.”

  
  


Hope has enough control not to accept Josie’s invite. She does.

  
  


The close proximity next to Josie makes Hope feel warm, and suddenly she isn’t shivering anymore. The warmth feels like the sun on a cold October morning and it _burns_ Hope. It cools her heart and Hope wonders how it can coexist as hot _and_ cold.

  
  


The taller girl is still standing in the doorway with a thoughtful expression on her face and Hope has an idea that her roommate is lingering on purpose. Josie’s face looks even more refreshing to Hope’s eyes than it did an hour ago. Her face looks alive, as if she took a shower in the thirty minutes that Hope hasn’t seen her for. 

  
  


It makes Hope come to the awful realization that she might have missed the girl. Even when she was only a few feet away during the car ride and even when she’s standing so close now. She’s not satisfied enough with this. It’s not enough. If Hope leans a little bit closer, she can kiss Josie.

  
  


She wonders if this feeling in her chest, this _longing_ will ever be satisfied.

  
  


“You’re right,” Josie finally gathers, turning around and leaving the door wide open for Hope to see her. Hope peeks inside and the room looks near vacant, but it’s no less of what she was expecting. It isn’t their—Lizzie’s and Josie’s—home. It’s just a vacation spot.

  
  


Her attention snaps back to Josie when the girl speaks, “Do you want to borrow something to wear? I know you’re cold and I packed a lot...So do you?” 

  
  


Her voice is soft and she sounds shy, almost refraining from looking in Hope’s general direction. She picks up three towels and then walks back over to Hope. 

  
  


“No, that’s okay,” the logic left in Hope answers. It wouldn’t be a good idea. People might ask and there’s no need for it—Hope has clothes. She feels her heart pound viciously against her rib-cage, maybe trying to jump out of her chest and swim over to Josie.

  
  


So, no, there’s no need for it. Even if she wants to flaunt something of Josie’s, even if the possessiveness in her bones ache for otherwise, even if the jealousy in her stomach desires to prove that Hope isn’t a string-along—that she’s _better_ for Josie than Penelope.

  
  


Josie nods, understandingly, and for some reason Hope dumbly tries to further explain, “Uh, I don’t want to get you wet—I mean your clothes wet.”

  
  


Hope sputters embarrassingly, and in no time, she wants to slam her head against the wall, or jump off the roof, or crumble underneath the ceiling. Any option works.

  
  


A blush falls against her pale face and she tries to distract herself, taking one of the towels in Josie’s arms and propping it up on her shoulders. She covers herself and takes a step back so Josie can step outside of the room too.

  
  


Josie somewhat grins and to Hope’s appreciation, changes the subject, “So why were you in the backyard?” There’s a playful tone to her question and Hope doesn’t know what other excuse to come up with other than they were being nosy.

  
  


Hope thinks to blame Maya, but decides against it. Instead, her curiosity gets the better of her. An imperceptible smirk plays on her lips,“Why are you here...upstairs...when everyone else is downstairs?”

  
  


Hope tries to play the inquiry off as a joke, but inwardly she’s wondering why Josie ran upstairs so quickly the moment they all stepped into the house—she very much wants Josie to answer.

  
  


The area around Josie’s eyes crinkle and she arches a single brow. “What? I can’t be alone?” Josie asks coolly, crossing her arms in front of her chest in feigned indignation. Hope chuckles, shaking her head slightly before cooling her features. 

  
  


“No,” she deadpans, giving the other girl a pointed look to start talking. 

  
  


“Fine,” Josie huffs, her hands on her sides. She even has the nerve to fake exasperation. “I was looking for something.” 

  
  


Hope rolls her eyes. This room is practically empty. She teases, “What were you looking for? Dust?”

  
  


“My swimsuit.”

  
  


“You’re wearing it,” Hope says, her face impassive in front of Josie’s eyes.

  
  


“You don’t know that,” the brown-haired girl pouts, and Hope does her best not to fall over from how adorable Josie looks right now. Her attempt at convincing Hope is kind of funny.

  
  


When Hope doesn’t refute or say anything else, Josie exhales deeply. She twists the ring on her finger and her eyes dart around the room shyly, a corner of her lip rising as she bites the inside of her cheek. Hope narrows her eyes, finding herself in suspense. Can Josie just come out with it already? 

  
  


“If I’m being honest, I was hoping you’d follow me up here,” Josie starts and Hope’s heart swells abnormally at the words. Hope’s roommate sighs, “I wanted to be _alone_ with you so I could—”

  
  


She pauses. Her eyebrows knit in contemplation, and Hope sees the exact moment she isn’t going to finish her sentence. 

  
  


“—Nevermind.”

  
  


That single word drowns in emotion, so heavy-weighted that Hope swears her chest caves in. At the same time, this is the first instance she can recall that Josie’s ever been so direct to Hope. The girl looks torn beyond relief, but Hope finds herself almost comforted by the words. She realizes that this is what a part of her had wanted—for Josie to tell her this.

  
  


Is this why Maya was so persistent?

  
  


Hope deflects from the seriousness of the conversation, feeling giddy and unable to say anything substantially thoughtful at the new honesty in Josie. It kind of makes her scared—how vulnerable Josie’s being. A deep frown sits on Josie’s face, wavering, but there, there, there.

  
  


“Let me get this straight: you planned for us to meet, without telling me, and then questioned _me_ when I finally came upstairs?”

  
  


It’s supposed to be juvenile and playful, but Josie doesn’t laugh. Hope finds herself unable to crack a smile as well.

  
  


“Yeah,” Josie confesses quietly, her eyes falling to the floor again. Hope looks down, wondering what’s so interesting there. She doesn’t find anything. 

  
  


“Well,” Hope says, trying to draw Josie’s attention back to her, “I’m here.”

  
  


It’s not only a statement, but a suggestion. Half of Hope is pleading: _tell me_. 

  
  


Hope readjusts her towel and then plays with her hands, one hand somehow colder than the other. The cold hand melts into the warm one, and Hope looks at the staircase. Maybe she should leave. It’s been too long, her friends will start to suspect something.

  
  


The blue-eyed girl steps away once and each breath of air seems to stay next to Josie, sad and reluctant to be so far away. The distance pulls between them heavily—siding with Josie—and It feels suffocating to the young Mikaelson.

  
  


Lizzie calls the pair from down the stairs, telling them it’s time to leave, and a bitter trace of laughter tumbles from Josie’s lips, “It’s too late. You’re too late. Let’s go.”

  
  


Josie starts to walk towards the staircase, ready to go down them, but Hope calls her back, a little confused as to why Josie sounded so upset, “What did you want me here for, anyways?”

  
  


Did Josie want to kiss her? Talk to her? Apologize again?

  
  


Josie stops and turns around, but her words don’t seem to come so easily. She only eyes the girl, a hardly perceptible grin on her face, before shaking her head and jogging down the stairs, not confirming either of Hope’s thoughts and leaving her with silence.

  
  


-

  
  


Hope runs down the stairs when she realizes Maya and Sam are still stuck outside, without towels. She almost slips on her way out, running on a tile of water that she probably left from when she first came inside. Fortunately, no one sees her, and she goes back outside.

  
  


“Fucking finally. It’s been like an hour,” Maya complains, the moment she sees the auburn-haired girl.

  
  


“If you’re so impatient, why didn’t you just get them yourself?” Hope starts up the path to the pool, walking leisurely. Her friends can wait an extra few seconds. “Plus, I didn’t take that long. It’s only been like ten minutes.”

  
  


Right?

  
  


Maya and Sam are both out of the pool, sitting criss-crossed on the pavement directly in front of the sun.

  
  


“Ten minutes to get towels?” Sam asks her, reaching for the towel as Hope starts to hand them over.

  
  


“Do you want your towel or not?” Hope retracts her hand, pulling back before Sam can quickly reach for it. “Actually, I don’t think you guys deserve them.”

  
  


“Dude, stop playing.”

  
  


Hope holds the towels over the _water_ , threatening to let the towels fall into the pool. Maya gets up and sighs, “That’s not funny. We have to dry so we can leave.”

  
  


“I think it’s pretty funny,” Hope nods her head, agreeing with herself. She then sends the both of them an incredulous look before handing the towels over. “Hurry up, everyone’s already ready to walk down.”

  
  


“We’re walking?” Maya asks curiously, drying her hair with her towel first.

  
  


“Are you that lazy? It’s literally less than a mile away,” Hope points in a direction, but Maya still doesn’t seem to care, her pout deepening ridiculously. The brunette crosses her arms like a toddler getting reprimanded. Hope snidely remarks, “If you get past that big-ass ego of yours, you might see it behind those trees.”

  
  


“Wow, haven’t heard that one before,” Maya drawls sarcastically and Sam laughs at their childish behavior.

  
  


“Wow, haven’t heard that one before,” Hope mocks her, her voice turning high and irritating. Maya shoves her and cracks a slight smile. This part of Hope only comes out every so often.

  
  


“You guys are so stupid,” Sam slides past the two while they bicker, stepping inside of the house first. The house is empty and their friends are outside in the front; the front door that’s opened is the only indication. 

  
  


Hope reluctantly grabs her bag from the floor. Can’t she just stay here for the remainder of the day? She puts on an oversized t-shirt, not really caring enough to put on shorts. They’re going to be at the beach soon enough. She puts her old, soaked clothes in a plastic bag and then stuffs them into her backpack.

  
  


She smiles slightly at the plastic bag. Ever since she was little, her parents forced her to bring a trash or plastic bag to the beach for her wet clothes. If she ever left without one, they’d go all the way back. End of discussion, her mother would say. 

  
  


It causes her to picture her parents’ faces and she imagines them _there_. This happens so often—about thirty times a day.

  
  


Maya quickly apologizes to the group and Hope attempts not to roll her eyes. Fake-ass.

  
  


“It’s fine, we were talking about the trip,” Lizzie says and they all start to follow behind Josie, who leads them. “We were thinking about staying overnight because we got here pretty late. The sun’s gonna set in like an hour and a half.”

  
  


The blonde seems sour at mentioning the short time they’ll all have at the beach, but Hope knows that the idea of Sebastian sleeping over is probably one she’ll decide on easily.

  
  


“Is that okay with your mom?” Milton asks beside her, voicing one of Hope’s thoughts. She’s glad for the boy. He always asks the right questions and isn’t afraid to _not_ say anything. Hope knows it’s most likely because the pair are best friends, but still.

  
  


“Yeah. When she stopped by, I asked her,” Lizzie answers. They all cross a side-walk and then Lizzie continues when she’s more focused, “She told Josie to make sure I stayed the night with her and slept in her room.”

  
  


“And being the lovely sister that I am, I’ll just lie,” Josie shrugs her shoulders defiantly, and they’re so close to the beach now that Hope can see the shore.

“I’m down,” Maya says, but adds an ultimatum. “Just whatever you two do,” she pauses to point back and forth between Sebastian and Lizzie, “I don’t want to hear it at two AM.”

  
  


She smirks, heavily insinuating it, and her brother looks at her in disgust. “Pardon my sister’s manners, it seems she’s forgotten that she has any.”

  
  


“Pardon? What are you, bowing down to the Queen of England?” She remarks to Ethan, who still is having trouble picturing his best friend and his girlfriend...doing it. He shakes his head, trying to vanish the image from his mind.

  
  


“We really need to get you with someone, Ethan,” Sebastian points out. It’s hard to miss it when Sam’s smile fades. So strange. So, so strange indeed.

  
  


“I don’t need anyone,” Ethan’s cheeks flame red and...is he looking at Sam?

  
  


“We’re here!” Sam changes the subject and takes off her sandals, running in the warm sand. Maya follows after her and Hope watches the two. Everyone else moves off closer to the shore and Hope puts her towel down, lying on top of it. Her friends—who have stopped running like idiots in the sand—join her a second later.

  
  


The blue-eyed girl spots Josie, a few feet away from her, who also pulls out a towel and places it on top of the sand. She doesn’t sit down on it, but remains standing. Her sunglasses are sat on top of her head and Hope can’t help but picture it as a tiara on a princess. 

  
  


Hope sits up, feeling weirdly vulnerable lying down. She puts her own sunglasses on, not really wanting anyone to know she’s staring at Josie. It’d be bad—really bad—if someone were to catch her. She should stop.

  
  


Yet, she can’t look away. 

  
  


She is suddenly all-too aware of the slight breeze drifting through Josie’s hair—all-too attuned to the way the sun reflects across the other girl’s irises and turns them to molten lava. Even from the distance, Hope can see how their surroundings seem to stop for Josie, seem to bend to her will. The sky is only there to act as a backdrop for her, the sand forms only to warm her feet and make her comfortable. If the wind chooses to pick up, it’s because Josie wants it to. If the sun decides to shine more brightly, it is only because Josie allows it so. 

  
  


It’s almost as if the whole world revolves around Josie, and Hope’s little corner of it just isn’t enough. 

  
  


At the same time, it’s impossible for her to remember a time where she’s ever felt this enamored by someone. It’s also impossible for Hope to keep her eyes off her. Does Josie know she’s being stared at? Hope wonders if she cares, if she secretly adores Hope’s attention like the auburn-haired girl adores hers, if she can feel her eyes on her like a shark smelling blood in the water. 

  
  


Hope’s eyes tug towards Josie as she moves, her ears bend towards Josie as she talks to her sister. 

  
  


Josie takes off her shirt and shimmies out of her shorts and Hope wills her eyes not to look. It appears that she doesn’t have enough control, because she gawks anyways—staring blatantly at the girl.

  
  


Her eyes shift down and then up. Up and then down. She looks _everywhere_ , despite knowing she shouldn’t. Hope sets her eyes on Josie’s black matching bikini set, and the way it hugs her body is alluring and far too attractive. Hope’s mind helplessly travels elsewhere, and her stomach twists uncomfortably. 

  
  


She curses herself, her head—and something else—throbbing with old memory: Josie’s lips on hers, her eyes, her legs, the way she pushed Hope up against the wall, the way—

  
  


“Hope, you’re so fucking obvious,” Maya whispers next to her, pushing her a little. It causes Hope to fall back, the shit scared out of her. When did Maya get there?

  
  


Maya then _takes_ off Hope’s sunglasses, “Can’t hide now. Can you?”

  
  


Hope tries to snatch them back, but fails, and Maya tosses them somewhere far from them. The auburn-haired girl makes a mental note to remind herself later to get them if Maya doesn’t.

  
  


“What are you talking about?” Hope feigns confusion, her eyebrows furrowing to play along.

  
  


“You’re _so_ dirty,” Maya exaggerates and tries to say it again, but louder, when Hope slaps her shoulder.

  
  


“I wasn’t doing anything,” Hope denies, her voice hushed and thick where it wasn’t before. Hope tries to inconspicuously clear her throat. It’s fruitless. She glances back at Josie, and she finds that Josie’s already looking her way. She hopes that Josie doesn’t have super-hearing.

  
  


She’s not _that_ close, anyhow.

  
  


She finally gets her voice to not sound so gruff, “You can’t prove anything.”

  
  


“No, I can’t. But maybe I’ll tell Josie and see what she has to say,” Maya gets up quickly, a wide smirk on her face, before Hope pulls her back by her legs, making her fall flat on her face.

  
  


“Stop,” Hope wipes the sand off of her friend’s face and throat. “What would’ve you said to her? I was literally just looking at her.”

  
  


“Hah! I knew it,” Maya says proudly, her smug smile easily discernible. She starts to laugh hysterically, “God, you’re too easy.”

  
  


“I hate you,” Hope puffs, her arms flat against her chest in anger.

  
  


“I’m just messing with you,” Maya sounds more serious now. “You should go talk to her, she’s alone.”

  
  


Hope really needs to stop telling Maya about her problems with Josie. “It’s not smart, and everyone’s around, especially...you know.” Hope slyly points at Penelope and her friend nods, understanding completely.

  
  


Hope crawls to the spot where her sunglasses should be and picks them up, putting them on and lying back down. She looks to the sky, imagining her parents and the way her mother absolutely loved the beach.

  
  


-

  
  
  


“Maya you actually have to move in order to play,” Hope tells the brunette, who’s sitting in the sand under the volleyball net.

  
  


A few minutes ago, Sebastian had asked them all to play volleyball. No one knows how to play, but it’s still fun. Correction: funny. It’s funny.

  
  


“This is so tiring though…” Hope’s friend grumbles, and Hope gives her a hand to help her up. Maya stands up, rather unwillingly. Hope basically has to pull her off the ground.

  
  


“Tiring? You’re not doing anything,” Hope bites. She knows they’re down by a lot, but doesn’t really know how the point system works. Is it like tennis? Basketball? Soccer? Hope couldn’t tell you.

  
  


“Whatever,” Maya brushes the sand off of her skin, pushing it off of her legs and arms.

  
  


“Okay, timeout,” Sebastian calls out suddenly, trying to huddle the group up.

  
  


“Timeout? You can’t do that,” Lizzie yells from the other side of the net, making her way over to argue with Hope’s team when Josie pulls her back. “Fine, you’re still losing.”

  
  


Sebastian smiles at his girlfriend, and it doesn’t appear to lighten her mood. They all huddle up, “You girls aren’t doing anything. It’s literally been me and Ethan this whole time.”

  
  


“At least I’m trying!” Hope bites, pointing her fingers to the poor excuse of Sam and Maya put together.

  
  


“Can we play dodge-ball? I feel like throwing a ball at their faces,” Sam grins cruelly, and Maya nods, agreeing with her. They high-five and Hope frowns. What the fuck?

  
  


“Oh, are we supposed to just ignore the gigantic net hanging in the way?” Ethan remarks coolly, gesturing towards the piece of mesh. Everyone ignores him.

  
  


Maya seems to get preoccupied with her own ideas, “Yes! That’ll be so much fun. We don’t even have to tell them either, we can just start—”

  
  


The brunette starts heading towards the volleyball, but she gets pulled back by Sebastian. “Seriously?”

  
  


“I call dibs on getting Penelope first,” Sam continues, ignoring the boys completely. Hope isn’t exactly disheartened to the idea. “Do we have another ball? Or maybe we can just hit two birds with one—”

  
  


“Stop it, we have to finish this game,” Sebastian interrupts the girl, putting his hand on her shoulder so that she can look at him. “We need to get back up and win.”

  
  


“I kind of made a deal with Lizzie,” he says, a blush taking over his face.

  
  


“You did _what_?” Hope asks, but then stops being so curious when she sees how red he’s turning. “Nevermind, I don’t even want to know.” When everyone comes up blank for a game plan, Hope’s eyes wander to the other side of the net. 

  
  


Lizzie’s team isn’t in a huddle and they’re all just standing around, waiting for Hope’s friends to finish. How embarrassing. Hope lays her eyes on Josie, who’s standing in the far back with her legs crossed shyly.

  
  


Her heart consumes in thin air at the coy expression on Josie’s face. It feels like a secret—the space between them—and Hope’s heart jumps like a key, opening it and exposing them for just a second. Hope tears her eyes away, hoping she wasn’t imagining anything.

  
  


“I have an idea,” Maya announces, after the long period of awkward silence.

  
  


“Your timeout’s over!” Lizzie yells loudly and they all choose to ignore her, Sebastian waving her off.

  
  


“Shut up!” The three girls respond, somehow all at the exact same time.

  
  


“What if I throw sand in their eyes while we’re playing?” Maya continues, fully serious. At Sebastian’s exasperated expression, she says, “I’m not kidding.”

  
  


They all get out of the huddle a second later, with no actual game plan. They end up losing—badly—and Hope doesn’t even want to acknowledge what it means when Lizzie’s face lights up.

  
  


A few minutes later, everyone gets in the water except Hope, who leisurely decides to read a book on her towel. However, she can’t quite focus because of Josie, the only other person outside of the water, and who’s directly in front of Hope’s eyeline.

  
  


Does she really have to lay down so close to Hope?

  
  


The brunette finally gets up and wanders somewhere else and Hope sighs with relief, finally able to read successive sentences. She probably read the same sentence over eight times. A part of her can’t even remember what the book was about in the first place.

  
  


She thinks she’s finally steered clear of the brown-eyed girl, but only a moment later Hope feels a presence tower over her—a shadow that gives her shade from the burning heat of the sun.

  
  


Hope turns around, putting her hand above her eyes to be able to see. It’s Josie, carrying a few buckets and toys. She shyly smiles—the most fucking adorable thing Hope has ever seen—and asks, “Do you want to build a, uh, sandcastle with me?”

  
  


Sandcastles? Hope doesn’t build sandcastles. She’s the type to only knock them over.

  
  


“Where’d you get all the toys?” Hope furrows her eyebrows, although she’s mostly teasing the girl. She gestures to the abundance of beach toys in Josie’s hands and Josie passes her a small bucket.

  
  


“A kid let me borrow them,” the brunette explains, tilting her head to signal Hope of the small family to the right of them. Hope nods, but is still kind of incredulous. Josie? Asking her to build a sandcastle?

  
  


She can’t bring herself to tell the girl no, though. Hope takes one of the shovels from Josie’s hand, and is it just Hope when Josie’s hand lingers?

  
  


She stands up, looking back towards the shore. Her friends are all still playing, so surely nothing bad can happen. Hope gets her bag and puts one of her caps on, trying to escape the sun. She then follows Josie to an area a little far from the shore.

  
  


Hope doubts their friends can see them.

  
  


“Okay, go get some sand for us to use,” Josie orders her, and Hope is—admittingly—unsure of what that means. Hope picks up one of the buckets and starts to chuck dry sand into it. Josie all but shrieks, “What are you doing?!”

  
  


“What?” Hope asks, confused as to what she’s doing wrong. Josie takes Hope’s bucket and dumps it back out and Hope stares at her hard—not really—work longingly. 

  
  


“You’re supposed to get _wet_ sand,” Hope’s roommate declares very precisely, much like an expert or scientist. There’s a small pout on her face. Is she actually upset? What a child.

  
  


“Well, excuse me, I’ve never done this before,” Hope tugs her cap down and crosses her arms, feigning annoyance. Josie gasps audibly, putting a hand to her chest in disbelief.

  
  


“You’ve never built a sandcastle?” Josie questions, fully shocked. Hope worries her lip in between her teeth. It’s not _that_ bad, right?

  
  


“No…” Hope trails off. She never had any friends or siblings to do it with. She picks up a shovel, tossing it between her hands, “It can’t be that hard. Just show me.”

  
  


“Okay, uh,” Josie looks around, “...We should first build a wall around the space so that no water from the shore comes and ruins it.” She starts to dig with her hands, making room for a crevice for any water to fall in from the waves. Hope just watches the girl, her eyes on Josie’s face and not really what she’s doing.

  
  


“Are you just going to sit there?” Josie says after a moment, but doesn’t stop what she’s doing. The brunette doesn’t even take a single second to look at Hope, keeping her eyes down to pay attention to the wall that she’s building. 

  
  


Hope genuinely doesn’t hear her—too busy staring at the way Josie’s mouth lifts up and the way her hair blows against the wind. Josie finally looks up, catching Hope, “Stop staring.”

  
  


The blue-eyed girl doesn’t look away, doesn’t shy away, maybe _wanting_ to be caught. Hope’s cheeks don’t even move to blush, her features don’t even shift to look ashamed.

  
  


“She doesn’t deserve you.”

  
  


Josie's eyes flicker upwards at the mention of Penelope and the bucket in her hand drops, landing on top of her work. It crumbles what she’s done already, but she doesn’t seem to care—preoccupied with the words that just came out of Hope’s mouth. 

  
  


“We’ve talked about this already,” Josie says, casually ignoring the girl in front of her. Hope knows, she _remembers_ , but everything Josie’s said still doesn't satisfy her. Josie digs her fingernails in the sand and Hope can’t tell if it’s from anger or anxiety.

  
  


“—You just have to trust me,” the brown-eyed girl practically begs, her eyes meeting Hope’s sincerely. It makes Hope want to _trust_ her, want to forgive her. 

  
  


“But you don’t have to be with her. You don’t have to be with anyone,” Hope’s chest lights up on fire, and every inch of her skin helplessly refuses to be burnt. Hope loosely breathes and her head feels five-thousand pounds too heavy. “What are you so scared of?”

  
  


Hope can’t see it. She can’t see what must frighten the girl so much about them together. Her family—their families—can’t be such a big factor in this. They can’t. 

  
  


Some part of Hope slightly understands. She knows that if her parents were still alive, she would probably be running from Josie, expressing the same dismissive tone that Josie does so effortlessly. The other part of her—her feelings, her emotions—can’t even bother to understand, can’t even bother to see what’s so bad.

  
  


The sun pulls away for just a second—the clouds reaching out—and the coolness graciously hits Hope’s face. She wonders if Josie feels the same weight lift off of her chest.

  
  


But then the sun comes back again, the clouds unable to hold out for so long.

  
  


“You’re as scared as I am,” Josie says pointedly, exposing Hope for their shared cowardice. All Hope hears is excruciating pain. The sound of each syllable pulls at Hope’s ears, and she’s forced to listen to each word ring. “You act like you aren’t, but your thoughts are very much like mine.”

  
  


She looks Hope in the face, and doesn’t look away. Can she hear the sound of Hope’s accursed heart? Can she hear it beat in her chest with delinquency? The sky begins to bleed into darkness and Hope momentarily wonders what time it is.

  
  


Her mother smiles at her from the sky. 

  
  


“Then what do you want?” Hope desperately asks, her voice wavering. She swallows and it hurts like she's sick.

  
  


“You,” Josie says, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. It’s soft and Hope’s heart skips a beat at the confession. Josie’s eyes darken, her pupils blown a little. She swallows and Hope tracks the way her throat bobs up with her eyes, “Just wait for me.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank Heaven! the crisis,  
> The danger, is past,  
> And the lingering illness  
> Is over at last—
> 
> -EAP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yw

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Hope breathes against the girl in front of her, disconnecting their lips. Josie’s hips press into Hope’s own forcefully, and Hope does her best not to cant up, not to react and show how much it’s turning her on.

  
  


It’s been several minutes since Josie had led her into the beach parking lot and it’s now dark enough where—from far—no one can really see them. 

  
  


_“Wait for me.”_

  
  


_Hope finds herself unable to talk, turning dumbstruck at the brunette’s breathy statement. She feels something pull at her chest and stab her, but when she looks down, there’s nothing there._

  
  


_Josie’s eyes bleed into Hope and the fervor behind them captivates Hope, not letting her look away. They stare at each other until the silence between them drags on for too long, and when Josie glances away, Hope can almost swear that she looks disappointed._

  
  


_The two sit in silence for the rest of the time they spend making the sand castle, and it actually comes out pretty nicely. At least, Hope thinks, theirs definitely looks much better than the group of kids’ next to them._

  
  


_When they’re done, they take a moment to admire it and Josie snaps a couple of pictures on her phone. Hope chooses to pretend she doesn’t notice the secret one the brunette takes of her. She stops pretending when Josie tries it again._

  
  


_“Hey,” she says, not really mad. “Stop that.”_

  
  


_Her roommate doesn’t reply, not giving her a second to think before she’s standing up, and walking in a different direction, away from the shore. Hope calls after her, “Where are you going?”_

  
  


_“Follow me,” Josie says, but doesn’t look back. She walks slowly, as if waiting for Hope to catch up with her. It feels like a secret when Hope stands up, too, and it feels like a secret when she follows the girl. The brown-eyed girl’s hold on her is merciless, unrelenting every moment of the day._

  
  


_Why is Hope following her?_

  
  


_Hope thinks she can’t trust herself anymore, not when she can be so easily seduced into this dangerous game with Josie. It’s a game of roulette that Hope never wants to stop playing—she’ll surely die for it._

  
  


_They reach the parking lot and instantly Josie turns around, kissing Hope square on the lips._

  
  


Hope reverses their positions, pushing Josie up against the car—a random-ass car—and pressing her into it. When Josie tries to kiss her again, she dodges it, a playful hand gripping the area where Josie’s throat and chest meets. Hope arches an eyebrow, definitely unsure of where this is coming from, and tries to put space between them. For the tenth time.

  
  


Somehow, being further away from Josie makes her even more dizzy. Hope tries not to obviously stare at Josie’s exposed skin. It’s so much better up close. She forgets that she, too, is only wearing a two-piece swimsuit. Why is this a good idea again? Oh right, it’s not.

  
  


“Our friends will wonder where we are,” Hope tries not to pant it out, but she’s still somewhat breathless from their kiss. She even has to repeat herself, because it seems like Josie doesn’t fully hear her at first. 

  
  


When she finally understands, Josie rolls her eyes blatantly in front of her. The fucking nerve.

  
  


Josie doesn’t talk, only reconnecting their lips. It feels like _months_ since they’ve last kissed—the calendar acknowledges nothing—and Hope tries her hardest to relish in it, remember it. She doesn’t know when she’ll be satiated again. Josie distinctly tastes like fruity candy, something watermelon and green apple.

  
  


She missed kissing Josie, even if they’ve only kissed twice. Is it bad that Hope’s counting? But she misses it like the sun misses the day when night falls, having to tread through the sky miserably and _alone_ , while the moon shines in all its mocking glory. 

  
  


The kiss becomes more gentle and the world slows down for them, allowing Hope to _remember_. Josie’s here, right in front of her, and her _thereness_ feels like a hopefulness that Hope’s never known before. 

  
  


Hope connects her right hand with Josie’s left, their fingers intertwining against one of the glass windows of the car.

  
  


Her other hand stays on Josie’s hipbone, careful and not too much. It rests slightly above Josie’s bathing suit. Josie pushes the girl away slightly—needing to breathe—but Hope isn’t as out of breath anymore. She eyes Josie’s swollen lips and tries not to think about much she’s really willing to _fuck_ Josie against the car.

  
  


She presses her lips to the valley of Josie’s neck, kissing lightly until she reaches a sensitive spot on her throat.

  
  


Hope only notices it because of the way Josie’s head falls slightly forward on her shoulder and the way her hand grips Hope’s own tighter. The auburn-haired girl lightly nips at the spot before sucking the skin into her mouth. 

  
  


Josie moves even more ragged against her, putting a hand to the nape of Hope’s neck—pulling her closer, wanting _more_. Josie’s breaths turn into pants and Hope feels herself getting hot, her abdomen twisting more thickly with every passing second. Heat vibrates throughout Hope’s bones, straight to her core.

  
  


It doesn’t help that every time Josie breathes, Hope feels it against her own neck, slightly under her earlobe. Feeling _too_ hot—unsure if she can control herself from going further—she backs up.

  
  


For a second, she simply just watches Josie. Her eyelids are closed and the sun has set behind them, painting her skin warmly. 

  
  


But she misses the contact almost immediately, moving only to kiss Josie on the lips again.

  
  


It feels like a cycle on repeat. It feels like a dream.

  
  


It feels like a _dream_.

  
  


Hope starts to feel lightheaded. She starts to feel _really_ lightheaded. Her senses are all too attuned to Josie. All she can feel is Josie. All she can hear is Josie. All she can taste is Josie.

  
  


Hope leans against the girl more firmly—not trying to fall—and accidentally slips a knee between Josie’s thighs. Accidentally. The brunette reacts instantly, the added pressure causing Josie to buck her hips up, brushing herself against Hope’s knee for a second time. 

  
  


She also involuntarily bites Hope’s lip. Hard. 

  
  


“Ow, fuck,” Hope retracts away from the girl, licking her lips. She tastes something metallic and presses her fingers to her lips, rubbing at the small amount of blood there.

  
  


Josie’s eyes shoot open and she stares at Hope’s lip, apologizing hurriedly, “Oh, shoot, I’m so sorry.” Hope shakes her head at the girl in front of her.

  
  


“You’re f-fine,” Hope whispers, still in her lustful daze. Why is she now even _more_ turned on? Her eyes flicker to Josie’s lips, which are delightfully bruised. Her hair is also messy and Hope smirks a little at the girl’s appearance.

  
  


She snaps out of it when she hears a car alarm—specifically the sound of a car unlocking. It just so happens to be the car that they’re next to. Hope’s eyes widen and the brunette’s expression mirrors her own.

  
  


How did Hope not hear people close by?

  
  


Josie turns around quickly, moving behind a different car, leaving Hope to defend herself to a family of...six? Hope guesses what looks like the father, throwing her a confused look.

  
  


“Sorry, I was just looking at your car. It’s _so_...nice,” Hope stumbles around an excuse, gesturing towards the ugly blue minivan. She acts like she’s examining it, “What year is it?”

  
  


“2008…” The man deadpans, looking at Hope strangely. He looks back at a woman—his wife?—and makes a weird face. Hope ignores it and awkwardly smiles at the pair, raising a thumbs up.

  
  


“Great! Thank you so much,” Hope clasps her hands together and backs away slowly, faking excitement, “Bye!” The words slide off of her tongue uncomfortably. Hope’s never been known for kindness. 

  
  


She walks fastly away, disregarding her ears when she hears a child voice say, “Daddy, who was that creepy lady?” Hope rolls her eyes. She wonders where Josie is.

  
  


As soon as the thought occurs, an arm pulls her back. She finds Josie, who’s busy hysterically laughing at her. Hope scowls, a heavy frown on her face. They’re still stuck in the parking lot, but are only a few feet away from the sand. She hopes that her friends are still in the water.

  
  


If not, they’re in deep, deep trouble.

  
  


“Why’d you leave me like that?” She asks, pouting slightly. The blue-eyed girl crosses her arms in front of her chest, hugging her elbows.

  
  


“Like how you left me in the store?” Josie remarks, after she’s finally finished laughing. She blankly looks at Hope, easily able to justify herself. Josie giggles after and the sound delights Hope’s ears, making her distantly think about how much the sound feels like home—homey. Josie’s fit for home.

  
  


“Whatever,” Hope says and tries not to blush when their shoulders bump. How can they go from what happened minutes ago to _this_?

  
  


Before they hit the sand, Josie turns to face her. She thinks Josie is going to speak, say something, but she doesn’t even move her lips to breathe. 

  
  


What does Josie want? A goodbye kiss?

  
  


Their eyes meet and Hope suddenly feels vulnerable. Josie’s eyes are looking deeply into her own, and she tries not to crack under the stare. It feels like a blessed burden to carry, to have Josie looking at her like this. It makes a weight fall on her chest and lift all at the same time.

  
  


Hope looks elsewhere—the first to break—and she notices something on Josie’s neck. She freezes. There’s the beginning of three, large reddish-bruises marked across her throat and Hope swallows thickly at the reminder of what they had just done. 

  
  


Her horny mind springs back to moments ago too fast, and she shakes her head, trying to dispel her thoughts. 

  
  


“What?” Josie asks, confused, when Hope stares for too long. Should Hope tell her? A part of her wants Josie to parade around like this, for everyone to see what Hope _did_ to her. It’s a selfish desire, Hope wanting everyone to know—especially Penelope—that Josie is hers.

  
  


It’s possessiveness lodged in Hope’s heart, it’s jealousy dipped in Hope’s blood. It bites at her all the same. Logic and fear, though, resound throughout her, forcing her to let Josie on.

  
  


“Uh,” Hope bites her cheek, “I might’ve left a…”

  
  


Hope points at Josie’s neck, gesturing for the girl where she should look. She does it rather stupidly, however, because Josie can’t look at her own neck. Josie tries, anyways.

  
  


Josie attempts to cover it up with her hair, but to no avail. “What did you do?” She asks, blaming Hope right away, like she _also_ wasn’t participating. Her brows furrow together tightly, and she rubs at the marks. 

  
  


“Don’t look at me like that,” Hope frowns, watching as Josie continues to irritatingly rub at her skin. She slightly smirks, trying to elicit something of the girl, “If anything, you were basically dry-humping me—”

  
  


Josie shoves her, a hand to Hope’s shoulder, and the auburn-haired girl finds herself unable to stop laughing. Then, a coy, flirty look in Josie’s eye appears almost imperceptibly. “That was only after what you did to me.”

Josie slaps her _knee_ in emphasis and Hope's laughter dies right away.

  
  


She swallows harshly, her desire catching in her throat. She blinks away blurred vision, “That was an accident.”

  
  


“And I’m sure it was,” Josie says, emphasizing the words teasingly, her voice raising. Hope blushes inwardly, and she’s glad it doesn’t really show up on her face. She burns either way, though. 

  
  


A beat of silence passes and then Josie rubs at her skin again, directing Hope, “Go get me your sweatshirt so I can hide it.”

  
  


“What do you mean, _my_ sweatshirt?” Hope narrows her eyes, but knows she’ll basically do anything for the girl. Her blood warms at Josie wearing anything she owns, but she tries not to show it, “Don’t you have clothing of your own?” 

  
  


“No, your sweatshirt is in _my_ bag. Go get it,” Josie says again, taking a seat on the bench next to them, completely unbothered by Hope’s questioning look. She kicks up her feet, relaxing.

  
  


“You still have my hoodie?” Hope means to come off as teasing, but she ends up sounding weirdly emotional. Hope takes off Josie’s feet from the bench, trying to draw her attention.

  
  


The girl’s face flushes and the auburn-eyed girl focuses her attention on the way her cheeks fluster red, this time unaided by the sun. “...Yeah.” Hope knows not to ask anything more when Josie pointedly chooses _not_ to look at her, seemingly looking everywhere else but her.

  
  


Hope takes off and comes back to the area where they settled next to the shore. She finds, much to her delight, that her friends are _still_ in the water. They look to be pretty far into the ocean and Hope tries not to worry. It’s getting dark. Very dark.

  
  


She grabs a hoodie of her own, tugging it over herself before grabbing Josie’s bag. She also puts shorts on, wanting to be more comfortable. When she finally gets her roommate’s bag, she hates that Josie didn’t even have to describe the duffel to her.

  
  


Hope decides not to go through it, and brings the whole bag. She walks back to the bench, tossing Josie her bag. Josie starts to dig through it, “What took you so long?”

  
  


Not even a thank you? And why does everyone keep asking her that?

  
  


“I was gone for a minute,” Hope puffs, sitting down next to the girl. It feels so much more comfortable not being half-naked and shivering. Josie cracks a smile, and Hope immediately finds that she’s joking. It fascinates Hope. How easily Josie smiles.

  
  


It’s weird—seeing the brunette like this. So playful, so teasing.

  
  


Hope can’t get enough of it, ingraining it into her memory. She looks up to the sky, catching the white moon next to the stars. The close proximity of Josie provides Hope with the warmth the sun could never compete with, and Hope feels like falling asleep.

  
  


She hears a ruffle of clothes beside her and turns to see Josie tugging on _her_ hoodie, but she keeps her bathing suit bottom on. A comfortable silence wraps around them, a white shadow from the moon gleams at them, and the quiet remains fitting.

  
  


After a minute, Hope breaks it—allowing the moon to shine no more—and starts, “You should probably go...so they don’t think anything’s up.” The words come out softly but like ice, unwilling against Hope’s devastated tongue.

  
  


Josie stands up with a nod, giving Hope one more glance, “You’re staying here?”

  
  


It makes Hope smile, how the question is asked. Like Josie is a mother, who needs to know where their child is in order to remain at ease.

  
  


Hope nods and Josie stands there for a moment, waiting for something. When Hope decides not to prolong the misery—not to kiss her just so she won’t have to be pained with how much she’ll want to hold on—Josie sighs and walks away altogether.

  
  


For the twenty-third time today, Hope imagines her mother. This time, she’s sitting next to Hope, holding her hand and smoothing out her hair. Hope’s throat turns to dust—her eyes blink with tears—and she pushes away her mother, looking back at the sky.

  
  


The moon crumbles to powder in front of her.

  
  


-

  
  


It’s about an hour later when everyone gets out of the water. Josie had even joined them, and Hope guesses it was after she left Hope near the bench. Hope thinks Josie must’ve forgotten about the hickeys, but after getting out of the water she jogs over and immediately puts on Hope’s hoodie where it’s lying on her towel.

  
  


No one asks why she’s wearing a hoodie. It isn’t that suspicious since it’s incredibly cold outside right now. 

  
  


However, Hope wonders if Maya will recognize the hoodie, but Hope doesn’t think she’s worn it in front of the girl. Either way, Josie has worn it so many times to the point where it’s hers now. Hope doubts that anyone would ever think it’s hers.

  
  


Josie keeps the hood over her head, tightening the strings to where her face is only visible. Hope never knew keeping a secret could be so exhilarating. She feels a slight buzz whenever she sees the girl, and Josie smiles like she understands it. Like she feels it as well.

  
  


They all sit near a campfire site on the sand, but it isn’t lit and they just decide to gather by it. Milton, Ethan, and Rafael are playing football near them, and Hope puts her hair up in a ponytail, sitting beside Sam.

  
  


“I can’t believe you never got into the water,” Sam says next to her, everyone in their own conversations. Hope’s eyes flicker to Josie, but the movement occupies a second and Sam isn’t quick enough to see it. Josie is busy talking with Penelope and Milton.

  
  


“It’s never been my kind of thing,” Hope shrugs mindlessly, sure she’s told Sam this before. A certain suspicion rises in Sam’s face and the blue-eyed girl hopes she isn’t connecting the dots.

  
  


“You were going to throw _sand_ at us?” Hope hears a certain blonde across from her, and finds that Maya and her are in the middle of an argument. Lizzie puts her hand to her chest, incredulous. Their voices seem to raise and get louder, and soon no one else can carry on a conversation.

  
  


“Who told?” Maya looks at her friends, and Sebastian puts his hands up in surrender.

  
  


“I didn’t, I swear,” he claims and Maya drops it at the confused look on Lizzie’s face.

  
  


“You knew and didn’t warn me?” The blonde twin scoffs, accusingly turning to Sebastian. She drops their intertwined hands and Hope almost laughs at how hurt she looks. Betrayal.

  
  


“What? You’re exaggerating. It never happened,” Sebastian tries, his accent sour. He reiterates it when Lizzie doesn’t face him, turning away from him in anger, “But we didn’t do it, you guys won.”

  
  


“ _We_?!” The blonde Saltzman becomes more irritated and Hope has to hide her face so she can crack a smile. She turns away, catching Josie’s eye. The girl seems almost embarrassed of her sister’s behavior, but smiles nonetheless.

  
  


“I told her,” Penelope blurts out suddenly, a guilty look on her face. “Sorry, Maya.”

  
  


Wait...Penelope? How did she know about Maya’s plans? Are Maya and Penelope closer than Hope thinks?

  
  


Hope wants to laugh at how serious they’re all being over a game of volleyball, but none of her other friends—specifically Maya—find this humourful.

  
  


A hurt expression crosses Maya’s face, “What happened to roommate code?”

  
  


Hope decides to tune them out, looking at the boys on the side. They’re now simply tossing the football back and forth. Hope finds that Sam is also looking over at them, but she can’t tell who she’s individually eyeing. She guesses it’s Ethan.

  
  


-

  
  


The group ends up getting an Uber driver to take them home, as Lizzie decides it’s too late for them to walk back up. It’s dark, and no one particularly wants to be kidnapped. Even the usual assurance of being in a whole-ass group doesn’t provide any confidence.

  
  


Everyone sits on top of each other and the male driver gets upset at them for putting him in this predicament. He checks his mirrors every second, looking for cops. Hope herself suggested two cars, but she knows the ride back is five minutes and it isn’t really worth it. It’ll be over soon enough.

  
  


“Listen, scruff face, it’s not _that_ illegal,” Lizzie starts in the passenger seat, blankly staring at the old guy, “Now do your job and _drive_ , I still don’t know why you’re talking.”

  
  


“Lizzie stop being mean,” Josie says, sitting on top of the legs of Rafael and Milton. She sits almost between them, and tries to apologize for her sister, “I’m so sorry. She’s not usually like this.”

  
  


Maya giggles next to her. She proceeds to put a hand on the driver’s shoulder, and he shrugs her off. “What she means is that she’s always like this, you just have to ignore it.”

  
  


“Hey!” Lizzie turns around from her seat, taking off her seat belt. “I changed my mind. You guys can walk, except Sebastian.” She smiles at him adoringly, and he smiles back. Hope looks between the pair, a mostly disgusted look on her face.

  
  


Lizzie tells the driver to stop, but he doesn’t, only looking anxious at the idea that the girl beside him isn’t wearing a seatbelt. She yells at him again and this time he parks the car on the side of the road, “You all can leave. This isn’t worth the money.”

  
  


Seriously?

  
  


Hope decides not to care, unbuckling her seat belt and throwing Sam off of her. She opens the car door and looks at their surroundings. Through the lit lamp posts, she spots their beach house just down the street.

  
  


Sam follows her, and then everyone else does too. Lizzie groans every two seconds on the walk, and Hope thinks she looks very much like the Big Bad Wolf blowing down the three little pigs’ houses. She even complains about the driver’s ugly excuse of a mustache.

  
  


They shuffle inside and Hope realizes she didn’t really bring anything to stay over. Lizzie _does_ offer them all toothbrush kits, though. She carries a plastic bag full of them. It’s nice but kind of weird that they have dental kits.

  
  


Whatever.

  
  


They take turns for the showers, as there are three bathrooms.

  
  


Lizzie asks who wants to go first downstairs, and Maya volunteers the _both_ of them?

  
  


“Hope and I can just take a shower together,” Maya casually says and the house goes quiet the second she says it.

  
  


Lizzie gives them a weird look and Hope doesn’t even want to look at Josie’s reaction. The auburn-haired girl frowns, wondering what the fuck is wrong with her friend, “You’re joking.”

  
  


When Maya doesn’t laugh or smile, Hope wants to die on the spot. She’s certain that Maya only lives to embarrass her. Sam slightly giggles beside Hope, the only voice in the house.

  
  


Hope clears her throat, “She’s joking.”

  
  


Hope looks for an escape right away, taking her stuff and making a beeline to the bathroom. She takes off her clothes and turns on the water, trying just to take a quick shower. 

  
  


Hope stops the water when she hears a shuffling outside her door and then the door opens. The auburn-haired uses the curtains to hide her body, and only shows her face. She stops caring when she’s met with Maya, who comes through the door with a teasing smile on her face.

  
  


“How’d you unlock the door?” Hope asks, irritated from being disturbed so much. It’s like Maya can’t ever leave her alone.

  
  


Maya gestures to her fingernails and Hope suddenly has the urge to stab her. The only reason she hasn’t yelled at her is because Maya _is_ her best friend and they’ve seen each other naked more times that Hope can count.

  
  


Maya turns on the sink faucet and starts to rub at her skin, using makeup wipes to remove her makeup. Hope can’t bother to continue her shower, “Why’d you say that?”

  
  


“Say what?”

  
  


“What you said earlier. In front of everybody,” Hope tries to clarify and Maya’s face lights up with memory. 

  
  


“Oh, well, we’ve taken one together before. I was just trying to save everyone some time,” Maya murmurs, scrubbing at the area under her eyes. She gives Hope a look through the mirror, “Don’t be so embarrassed, Hopey.”

  
  


Hope thinks back to the time where Maya had barged into her shower and how they had gotten into a fight for thirty minutes because of it. They were late to some event together and Maya had stripped naked in front of the girl.

  
  


They still argue about it to this day.

  
  


She shakes her head several times, coming back to the moment.

  
  


“Screw you, you’re a bitch for doing that by the way,” Hope sighs, her headache exacerbating. She turns the water back on, putting shampoo in her hair. It’s fruity and reminds her of Josie—Josie’s hair and the way she tasted just a few hours ago.

  
  


Maya starts to sing the words to some song and Hope thinks she’ll never leave. However, she ends up having to turn the shower-head off—again—when _another_ person comes in. 

  
  


“Oooh, is this a party?” Sam asks, opening the door slightly and sliding through it. She waves at Hope and joins Maya, jumping on top of the sink and sitting on the counter.

  
  


“Oh, no. You’re fine. Just come right in!” Hope drawls, sarcasm the heaviest in her voice other than annoyance. She bangs her head against the shower wall, leaning against it when the coldness of the tile actually comforts her.

  
  


It feels like turning around the pillow to experience the refreshing, cooler side.

  
  


“Who shit in her cereal?” Sam puffs, acting like Hope can’t hear her. Maya has the audacity to shrug her shoulders and feign confusion—like the both of them _aren’t_ incredibly annoying the blue-eyed girl.

  
  


“Both of you, get out,” Hope says, but they don’t appear to hear her over the loud, obnoxious music that Sam starts to play. It’s so loud, Hope looks for a speaker. She doesn’t find one.

  
  


The music turns off abruptly, causing Hope to wonder why. She gets her answer soon enough, because there’s a knock on the door. Someone knocks exactly four times, and Maya and Sam look at each other before Maya opens the door.

  
  


“Oh, hey, Josie,” Maya says, leaning against the door. Does she have to open the door _that_ wide? Hope hides behind the curtains and turns the water back on, trying to distract herself.

  
  


_Josie_?

  
“Uh, I just wanted to give you guys these towels,” she sounds a little shy. She holds out the towels, “They just came out from the dryer.”

  
  


She even sounds surprised, like she didn’t know Maya and Sam would be in there. Was she coming just for Hope?

  
  


Hope hears a few more words, but she can’t make it out from the pitter-patter sound of the water hitting the ground loudly. 

  
  


The door shuts and Hope’s just about finished. Maya hands her a towel and Hope wraps it around her body. It’s warm. Really, really warm.

  
  


Her friends finally leave the bathroom the second time she tells them to, and she gets dressed in comfortable clothes—a hoodie and a pair of loose short-shorts. 

  
  


She cleans the bathroom before she leaves, not sure of who will follow after her.

  
  


Hope makes her way back to the living room, settling down on one of the couches. She brings her knees up to her chest, and scrolls mindlessly through her social media apps. 

  
  


Ethan and Rafael are the only ones in the room with her, but she doesn’t know where else she should be. She doesn’t even know where she’s sleeping tonight.

  
  


On the couch, maybe?

  
  


Lizzie or Josie have yet to tell her, so Hope is left with just guessing. She doesn’t want to be a push-over and ask either. 

  
  


About twenty minutes after, Josie joins them, sitting on the couch across from Hope. Hope tries not to pay attention to the girl—especially in front of Ethan, who’s smirking at her like he knows.

  
  


Josie’s staring at her, too, and Hope wonders why she’s being so obvious about it. She hasn’t ever been so obvious before, specifically in front of their friends. Rafael doesn’t seem to notice, enthralled in something on his phone.

  
  


Hope plugs her earbuds in and continues to scroll on her phone, seeing nothing. Her mind is too preoccupied with the girl in front of her, and her heart is too anxiously beating against her chest.

  
  


The attention makes her uncomfortable, and she wills Josie to stop. Where are her other friends? Hope knows Maya takes long showers, but Sam should be done.

  
  


Hope looks up, meeting Josie’s eyes finally. She looks away as soon as their eyes lock on, feeling somewhat caught although she wasn’t even the one looking first. 

  
  


What is Josie doing?

  
  


Sam comes out and Hope just about sighs in relief. She’s glad for the distraction.

  
  


“Hey, where’s Maya?” Hope asks her and pulls out her earbuds right away. Sam sits next to Ethan on the couch, and to the right of Hope. Hope moves slightly to give her room.

  
  


“She’s still in the shower,” Sam explains, leaning slightly on Ethan, “Said something about a fifteen-minute face mask?”

  
  


Hope notices how comfy they look, and how Ethan’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw the girl. The blue-eyed girl tries to think back to when she started noticing this kind of stuff. The party, maybe?

  
  


“Oh, okay,” Hope crosses her legs and tries to think of something else to say to continue the conversation. She comes up blank. Josie isn’t looking at her anymore and she can’t decide if she’s happy about it or if she only misses the attention. 

  
  


Her phone buzzes with a notification and she immediately checks it, finding a notification that someone messaged her on Instagram. Her forehead wrinkles in confusion—it’s not someone who she follows.

  
  


She accepts the request: Josie Saltzman.

  
  


Hope accidentally drops her phone into her lap, completely surprised, and she looks around to make sure no one has noticed. Ethan and Sam are both distracted in conversation and Josie is nonchalantly on her phone, without a care in the world.

  
  


**hi**

  
  


Hope frowns. What is this? Middle school?

  
  


She texts back anyways, though. Her fingers reluctantly type out a response. She’d rather just talk with the girl.

  
  


_hey?_

  
  


Hope slightly moves away from Sam, tilting her phone to the other side so her friend can’t see what she’s doing. She feels like she’s hiding porn or something. 

  
  


Josie looks up at her with a smug look and Hope finds herself double-texting, more than confused when Josie doesn’t respond right away.

  
  


_how’d u find my insta?_

  
  


Josie’s phone vibrates loudly and Hope makes the move to put her own phone on do-not-disturb. Just so no one grows suspicious or anything. 

  
  


**i looked on lizzie’s page**

  
  


Hope debates following Josie, but ends up clicking off of her page.

  
  


_why are u texting me?_

  
  


She hopes it doesn’t sound rude, but she doesn’t really know what else to say. She shifts on the couch—feeling giddy—and Maya emerges from the hallway.

  
  


They smile at each other and then Maya sits down on the left of her. Fuck. How is Hope supposed to text the girl now?

  
  


She puts her phone away, turning her attention to her friend. Maya puts a hand on Hope’s shoulder and moans next to her, complaining, “I’m so hungry.”

  
  


Hope rolls her eyes, but she’s kind of hungry as well. She hasn’t eaten since the morning. But it’s so late now, she doesn’t think they’ll get away with eating right now.

  
  


“That doesn’t sound like my problem,” Hope says, but her stomach grumbles in opposition. When did her voice get so deep and so high at the same time?

  
  


Maya starts to look up take-out options and Hope takes the moment to secretly check her phone.

  
  


**where r you sleeping tonight?**

  
  


Hope gulps. The blue-eyed-girl wonders why Josie would ask such a thing because she doesn’t know, and it’s mostly because Lizzie and Josie _haven’t_ told them. She thinks about straight-up asking the girl, but knows it’ll inevitably come up when Lizzie comes back downstairs. 

  
  


_is that an invite ;)_

  
  


It’s playful—something that Hope isn’t really known for. She feels slightly anxious at being so direct, but the way Josie reacts makes her regret nothing.

She momentarily wonders where Penelope is. She hasn’t seen the girl in a while. Why would Josie be down here and not with Penelope? She hopes the girl is only in the shower.

  
  


A blush falls across Josie’s features and Hope tries not to glimpse at it for so long. The blush soothes her heartbeat, returning it back to normal. Hope tucks her phone away in her hoodie pocket and stands up. She wanders down to the kitchen and Maya follows after her. They forget themselves, acting nosy and definitely not acting like _guests_.

  
  


The fridge is empty. Everything’s empty. 

  
  


There’s nothing there.

  
  


“Where should we go?” Maya asks her, leaning against the kitchen counter.

  
  


“Maybe we can steal the car keys from Lizzie and go get food?” Hope suggests, looking through some of the cabinets.

  
  


“Oh my god. Yes! We can make pizzas and get stuff from the market,” the brunette talks excitedly, already moving towards the front door.

  
  


“Shoot, we need the keys,” Hope says when they’re at the front. Maybe Josie has them? The thought is half an excuse just to talk to her.

  
  


“Eww, I don’t want to go upstairs,” Maya says, alluding to the idea that Sebastian and Lizzie might be doing...things.

  
  


“I don’t either,” Hope frowns, knowing there’s no way in hell she’ll go upstairs and make herself witness such a thing. “Well, you know her better so go.”

  
  


“I’ve never talked to her in my life,” Maya lies through her teeth and starts to go through the bags on the floor, hoping one of them is Lizzie’s.

  
  


“You’re such a liar,” Hope puts a hand to her forehead, trying to think of something else. “Let’s just get an Uber or something.”

  
  


“Okay, fine,” Maya agrees and Hope opens the app, putting her location in and finding a driver instantly.

  
  


“Uh, Maya and I are going to the store. We’ll be back in a bit,” she announces to the people in the living room, some reason feeling obligated to do so. Josie nods at her and her face is imperceptible for a reason Hope can’t understand. 

  
  


Hope tries to ignore the pain she feels the moment she steps away outside into the porch. She’s been close to Josie this whole day.

  
  


She hates getting used to things. She does.

  
  


Even if she’s just going to the store. Even if it’ll just be a moment.

  
  


The drive to the market is a pretty long one. There are no close grocery stores next to them, probably because it’s the _beach_. 

  
  


“Maybe we should just buy an already-made pizza,” Hope glances at the large selection, feeling too tired to have the energy to actually make several pizzas. As well as that, Hope and Maya have always been a disaster in the kitchen.

  
  


They simply suck at doing anything—even if it’s as easy as a pizza.

  
  


“You’re no fun,” Maya complains and then starts to toss a bunch of stuff in the cart senselessly.

  
  


So, they end up buying a lot of shit for no reason. They buy several balls of dough, pizza sauce, and different toppings. They also grab two bags of chips and some drinks.

  
  


By the time they get back, it’s an hour till midnight. The living room is now empty and all of the lights are dimmed. Hope wonders where everyone is.

  
  


She sends a quick text to Sam, telling her to come to the kitchen. Hope also gets the strange urge to text Josie as well, but eventually bests it. 

  
  


Sam comes right away, “What is wrong with you guys?” She gestures to the six bags filled with food. 

  
  


“What?” Hope asks obliviously. She looks around the room, wondering what the girl is referring to.

  
  


Sam shakes her head, laughing lightly. They turn on all the lights in the kitchen, not really caring about waking anyone up. Hope doubts anyone is actually asleep.

  
  


Soon enough everyone, including Sebastian and Lizzie, are downstairs helping with the pizzas. Penelope and Josie are near each other, like usual, but for the first time they aren’t stuck to each other like Hope usually has to deal with and witness.

  
  


It makes her think that things are changing. That things have changed.

  
  


It’s a good feeling.

  
  


The kitchen, however, is an utter mess and there’s flour everywhere. Half of the pizzas are in the oven and Hope tells Maya to start cleaning because, frankly, Hope doesn’t want to. 

  
  


Maya takes it out as a joke and starts to laugh. Even Sebastian laughs. At Hope’s confused look, she turns to face her friend, “Oh. You’re serious?”

  
  


“—Yeah, I don’t know who’s cleaning but it isn’t me. Hope and I _went_ to the store. I think that’s enough work for one day.”

  
  


It’s funny because neither of them have worked a day in their lives. 

  
  


“You guys caused this mess,” Lizzie frowns, sitting on one of the kitchen chairs. She throws Maya a pointed look, “I’m sorry, did we _ask_ for pizza?” 

  
  


Maya lunges off of her chair immediately, Lizzie striking some nerve. Hope swears that Lizzie and Maya are like fire on top of fire. “I’m sorry, did you _ask_ for my fist, or am I just willing to send it over to you?”

  
  


Hope thinks her friend is really about to punch Lizzie, but she drops her hand at the last second.

  
  


“Okay, let’s check on the first ones,” Sam says, interrupting Lizzie, who tries to talk. She moves over to the oven and turns on the light. Hope starts to cut the pineapple that she bought. She cuts it in tiny little slices, ready to put it on one of the pizzas when it comes out.

  
  


Hope likes cold pineapple on her pizza and doesn’t like when the pineapple is put in the oven. Someone gasps next to her: Josie.

  
  


“No way are you going to do what I think you’re trying to do,” she says rather loudly, causing everyone to look over to Hope. Shit.

  
  


Hope indiscreetly tries to hide the pineapple. Hope can’t believe it. Josie’s a pineapple-pizza hater.

  
  


Pineapple-pizza isn’t even that horrible.

  
  


“What’s so bad about it?” Hope bites, not really wanting to have this argument for the hundredth time in her life. It happens every time she eats pineapple-pizza. Maya has learned by now to not say anything about it.

  
  


“What’s bad about it? Everything—”

  
  


“Yay! They’re done,” Sam puts on her oven mitts, and opens the oven. She takes out the pizzas, one by one, and replaces them with the other undone pizzas.

  
  


Hope cuts two pieces for herself and then litters them with pineapple. She ignores it when Josie fake gags next to her. 

  
  


They all eat, and even Hope helps when it’s finally time to clean. It’s one in the morning when they all decide to go to bed. Sam, Maya, and Hope decide to share one of the rooms upstairs, and Josie follows them up, giving them a tour.

  
  


“Yeah, so if you need anything, you can just call for me,” she gives them blankets and pillows, ending their little tour at the door of the room. Hope thinks that this Josie, is a very different Josie than the one she first met. 

  
  


Maya and Sam say thanks, already jumping on top of the bed. Hope lingers by the door for just a little, unable to stop herself from pulling away and leaving—unable to stop staring so blatantly at the girl’s face. 

  
  


Hope has this thought that Josie looks like she wants to be kissed. Maybe she can get away with kissing Josie.

  
  


Maybe she can get away with sneaking into the girl’s room.

  
  


Maybe she can get away with it all.

  
  


A coward takes control of her tongue and courage never comes.

  
  


All she says is, “Goodnight.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I wake at night inside this thought  
> and stumble through the dark...  
> the soul wandering constantly  
> calling out for company, while the wind  
> blows through it as if it were nothing.  
> And what does the body know  
> now, sleeping through its nights alive?  
> It knows it will be left behind.  
> -Michael Ryan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh i had my sis read this for me and she told me it was weird and to delete it but whatever lmao idc sorry :/

Hope can’t get Josie’s disappointed look out of her head.

  
  


She replays every second of where she went wrong, changing it up in her mind, deluding herself that it was best. She imagines every other scenario. 

  
  


A scenario where she kisses her.

  
  


A scenario where she says more than _Goodnight_.

  
  


A scenario where she holds her hand, kissing it with the courtesy she deserves.

  
  


A sigh falls out of her mouth and she turns around, huffing in her pillow.

  
  


She tries to fall asleep. It’s futile. She turns around, unable to find a comfortable position. The bed taunts her, punishing the blue-eyed girl by not giving her an inch of rest.

  
  


She looks up at the ceiling but all she sees is Josie’s hopeful look disappearing and herself turning away and doing nothing. All she sees are Josie’s inviting eyes and Josie’s inviting lips. She can’t stop feeling regret pull at her stomach and she lets herself drown in the pain when the regret ties her stomach in knots.

  
  


It’s been an hour since.

  
  


She can take it back. She can take it back. She can take it back.

  
  


She gets up. Josie is standing outside waiting for you, false hope tells her. It stretches the auburn-haired girl thin. It leads her to believe things and it leads her to make excuses.

  
  


So, Hope decides, surely Josie has to be feeling the same pull Hope is.

  
  


She has to be. A magnet has two ends. Time shouldn’t matter. It’s been an hour since, and Hope fools herself into thinking Josie will be outside.

  
  


There’s no other option.

  
  


Hope’s head spins. Wishful thinking causes her to blindly lose sight of reality, releasing mist in her eyes and dragging the night out far too long.

  
  


“Hope, what are you doing?” Maya groggily asks next to her, turning on the lamp light. Hope freezes.

  
  


“Shh, go back to sleep,” Hope whispers, not wanting her friend to wake up Sam. Then she’d have _two_ nosy-ass people on her case. Hope turns the light back off.

  
  


“Bitch, you go to sleep,” Maya remarks as irritated as Hope expects one might be after having been woken up, but the brunette turns back under the blankets nonetheless. Hope tiptoes to the closed door but checks the time before she does: it’s almost two-thirty.

  
  


It’s kind of weird how she’s having a sleepover with just about ten people. She’s sure her parents would’ve never allowed it. The thought disappears quickly as she opens the door.

  
  


No one’s there. She’s immediately met with eerie darkness. Dark, dark, dark darkness.

  
  


She doesn’t know what she was expecting. She thinks she’s crazy. There’s no other explanation. Did she think that Josie would be there...waiting for her? She did.

  
  


She feels insane. She stands by the door, looking into nothingness. The hallway greets her—an insulting, little wave—and she stands there, her eyes looking nowhere and everywhere at the same time.

  
  


If she can trick herself enough, she can imagine Josie. Their eyes meet and a teasing little smile forms across Josie’s face, the girl playing with her like she always seems to do. The smile dances across Josie’s lips and carries over to Hope.

  
  


Hope smiles at nothing.

  
  


She blinks. Josie isn’t there.

  
  


_I’m insane._

  
  


Hope is running on little to no sleep, her mind is exhausted and her eyes cry out to be closed.

  
  


Somehow, somehow, she only has energy to talk to Josie. She doesn’t know why she wants to be close to her so much. It’s like the day before—what was only a few hours ago—has made her used to the contact, and now it’s all she wants.

  
  


This isn’t healthy.

  
  


A minute later she finds herself in front of Josie’s door. She hopes that Penelope isn’t in there. Why would she be? Josie told her not to worry about it. So, Hope tries not to dwell on it so much.

  
  


She prepares herself, anyways. If she prepares herself for the idea that Penelope’s in there, maybe her heart won’t shatter like it usually does, maybe her rib cage won’t rub against her chest and leave her in pain, maybe it won’t become hard to breathe. Maybe if Hope prepares for the worse, it’ll be better.

  
  


She stands at the brunette’s door, still as ever. She doesn’t hear anything. She can’t tell if that’s a good or a bad sign. She waits a second and then moves her hand to knock.

  
  


Before her hand can even touch the door, the door flies open. She’s met with Josie, who’s holding her phone as a flashlight.

  
  


“Holy fuck—”

  
  


The brunette lets out a scream and right away Hope clasps her hand over the girl’s lips, her other hand against the back of Josie’s neck.

  
  


“It’s me,” Hope whispers, trying to will the girl to stop screaming. It seems as though Josie recognizes her voice because she abruptly stops.

  
  


“Hope?” Josie asks and Hope lets her hands slide off of the girl, missing the contact almost immediately. The brunette now looks rather mad than scared, and whispers through gritted teeth, “I thought you were a murderer!”

  
  


Hope stays silent, trying to hear if anyone woke up due to Josie’s screaming. After a minute of silence, she thinks she’s in the clear.

  
  


“—What are you doing here?” Josie continues, and if there’s a hopeful look on her face, Hope completely misses it in the darkness of the hallway. The auburn-haired girl becomes anxious and she plays with her hands. What was she thinking?

  
  


“I—Uh…”

  
  


Nothing comes out. Hope tries again, but Josie appears to become impatient because she takes Hope’s hand and leads her to a room. When they’re inside, Josie turns on the light and Hope finds out that she’s been pulled into a bathroom.

  
  


Their bathroom history doesn’t fare too well. Or it perhaps has fared too well.

  
  


Her eyes adjust to the sudden light and soon she’s taking in Josie’s appearance—no makeup, an adorable pair of Christmas sweatpants, and...Hope’s hoodie?

  
  


Hope’s first thought is that the hoodie should be dirty and definitely in a washing machine. Her next thought is occupied by the way her heart swells _and_ ruptures at the sight.

  
  


Josie drops their joined hands and Hope feels her own fall like a rock to her side.

  
  


“What were you doing out?” Hope finally decides on, not really trying to answer Josie’s question. Although she’s an idiot, she’s still a cowardly idiot first. It draws Josie’s attention back to her and Hope tries not to feel so exposed at how the girl is looking at her.

  
  


Her eyes are always so intense and Hope wonders why. It’s the middle of the night. How?

  
  


“I had to get water,” Josie mumbles, rubbing at her eyes. Her voice is deeper than usual and Hope’s ears stick to the sound, following every syllable.

  
  


“Why’d you take me here, then?” Hope asks, looking around the bathroom. It’s oddly spacious, but Josie seems to know no concept of distance with how close she is to Hope. The blue-eyed girl isn’t exactly complaining, though. Hope’s lips upturn with a slight smirk, “I didn’t know you liked to drink out of the toilet.”

  
  


She shrugs with amusement and Josie hits her on the arm, shoving her back into the door playfully.

  
  


How can Hope’s heart feel so heavy and then feel like this? Hope decides that her suffering is probably due to the way she over-thinks so damn much. Her and Josie are fine.

  
  


The Goodnight was fine.

  
  


Wasn’t it?

  
  


Josie tilts her head up, a little confused, “Why were you at my door?” Hope’s smile slips off right away.

  
  


That’s a very good question, Hope thinks. A very, very good question.

  
  


“I…” She starts again, her tongue following the same pattern. She sputters uselessly again and then Hope recovers, finally landing on something to say, “I just had to see you.” 

  
  


Her throat bobs as she tries to swallow down her anxiety. Hope can’t exactly decipher the expression on Josie’s face and realizes she hasn’t exactly ever been this forward with the girl.

  
  


Sure she’s fought with Josie. Sure she’s tried to prove to her several things. But she hasn’t ever been romantic and she hasn’t ever been charming. At least, Hope doesn’t think so.

  
  


Is this romantic? Or weird?

  
  


Josie doesn’t seem to be too upset at Hope showing up like this, other than the whole screaming thing. 

  
  


“At three in the morning?” Josie asks lightheartedly. There’s a glint in her eye, one that Hope’s now more than familiar with. She plays absentmindedly with the hoodie strings and Hope has the absent idea to kiss her.

  
  


She ignores her desire, but regret doesn’t fill her like before. 

  
  


“Yeah, sorry,” Hope runs a hand through her hair, “I don’t know what I was thinking...I should go.” She tries to turn the doorknob, but Josie’s hand slides on top of hers, halting her movement.

  
  


“Don’t go,” Josie whispers, sounding so, so sincere. She exhales and then worries her bottom lip between her teeth, “Why’d you need to see me?”

  
  


What’s with all the questions?

  
  


They’re so close now that Hope accepts this as the moment where she’s supposed to kiss the girl and say more than one word, just so she can sleep peacefully.

  
  


The light dims for just a second and then comes back brighter, highlighting Josie’s face in a different way. She looks paler than Hope’s ever seen her, looks paler than just a few minutes ago.

  
  


A confession, along the lines of _I just wanted to kiss you_ rolls off of her tongue, but she ends up saying nothing like it at all.

  
  


What comes out instead:

  
  


“Where’s Penelope?”

Hope has asked that question way, way too many times.

  
  


“Not this again,” Josie huffs instantly, rolling her eyes dramatically and sighing sharply. Why does she get to be so irritated when Hope is the one that has to deal with it? “How many times do I have to tell you? There’s really nothing going on with her.”

  
  


“Why do you keep saying that?” Hope asks, hearing this for the thousandth time and it still isn’t reassuring. It still isn’t convincing. She looks Josie thoroughly in the eye, hoping it’ll make the girl provide her with just a little bit more honestly.

  
  


Josie turns away from her.

  
  


“You told me that you were with her because of your family—”

  
  


“I’m not _with_ her,” Josie turns back around so viciously and so quickly, her voice low but biting. It’s such a difference that Hope has to do a double-take. Hope has the thought that her eyes look like wet sand, darker than before. She tries not to think about their _damn_ sandcastle.

  
  


Hope laughs incredulously in her face, “That’s nothing like you’ve told me.”

  
  


Their voices stay hushed and Hope thinks that it’s decidedly not funny.

  
  


“She obviously likes you, you know,” Hope mumbles, feeling guilty about being here with Josie when her and Penelope are together. Aren’t they? Together? “You can’t keep doing this to her.”

  
  


Hope sounds like she’s blaming her and she hates the words that come out of her mouth, the second she says it.

  
  


Josie smiles. She actually fucking smiles. It’s ill-willed, but it’s a smile nonetheless.

  
  


The brunette shakes her head and for a second the bathroom turns quiet. She shakes her head again—for what’s probably the fifth fucking time—and then admits, “We’re not in a real relationship. I told you this when we first met and I’m telling you again now.”

  
  


**|move-in day|**

  
  


_“So you and Penelope, are you guys dating?” Hope tries to be nonchalant, but the look Josie throws her tells the auburn-headed girl that she’s being anything but._

  
  


_“Why are you asking?” Josie inquires._

  
  


_“Just so I can know whether or not I’ll be able to come home every night.”_

  
  


_“You’re exaggerating,” the brown-eyed girl smiles but adds, “Plus...it isn’t that serious.”_

  
  


_“No?”_

  
  


_“No.”_

  
  


**|a few days after college move-in|**

  
  


_“You obviously do, you’re acting like an ass,” Josie says spitefully and throws her notebook on her bed, unable to write anymore. Hope thinks she’s being dramatic._

  
  


_“I’m not acting like anything.”_

  
  


_“Is it about Penelope? Cause I think it has something to do with her.”_

  
  


_Hope decides not to answer, knowing her true feelings will surface if she’s probed any further on the subject. She’ll look upset or even worse: jealous._

  
  


_…_

  
  


_“What are you doing with Penelope?” Hope deflects._

  
  


_“I told you,” Josie states, feeling some anxiety erupt across her cheeks at the accusation._

  
  


**|friday night party|**

  
  


_“Where’s Penelope?” Hope draws, confronting the girl at last, ignoring any form of apology the girl can offer. Her words are a vast change of subject and the turnaround affects Josie visibly._

  
  


_“What?” Josie seems to shrink back further into the wall._

  
  


_“She isn’t here so I’m the replacement, right?”_

  
  


_“No, of course not,” Josie says hurriedly but Hope continues with her outburst._

  
  


_“You can't try to have sex with someone that actually likes you?” Hope seethes, turning on the faucet to wash her hands. She feels so dirty, so played with._

  
  


_…_

  
  


_“‘Cause of Penelope?” Hope lunges, jumping to a conclusion._

  
  


_“I told you, we aren’t together,” Josie says for the hundredth time, and it still isn’t enough to make Hope believe it. It makes Hope upset and monster-like, causing her to become hysterical._

_"Everything else says otherwise," Hope states, feeling bitter. She's agitated and knows their isolation in the bathroom is the best time to see for herself if the girl feels the same. Even if she has to do it directly._

  
  


_…_

  
  


_“No, I want to know,” she almost shouts, but she is careful enough to make sure no one can hear her. The music is loud enough, anyhow. She scoffs, “Where’s Penelope?”_

  
  


_“She’s sick,” Josie utters, finally complying. It makes Hope’s heart shatter. Is she just a rebound? Just someone to use when Penelope isn’t around?_

  
  


_“Wow, behind her back. And I'm horrible?” the girl flares darkly._

  
  


_The response sparks something in the brunette._

  
  


_“We’re. Not. Together,” Josie clenches her fist, gritting her teeth. Hope thinks she looks like an animal, very much like an animal indeed._

  
  


Hope pauses.

“What?” Hope asks, retreating back into the bathroom door. Her head hits the door first, falling back due to confusion alone. She ignores the sluggish feeling in her chest, “Wait...what?”

  
  


Why doesn’t she remember?

  
  


“What does that mean?” Hope continues on, her head burning. “No, no, no you can’t just say that after everything I’ve seen.”

  
  


Hope blinks. It’s every kiss she’s ever witnessed, it’s every time they’ve held hands in front of her, it’s remembering how they basically had sex in front of her.

  
  


Why isn’t Josie saying anything?

  
  


“Like...friends with benefits?” Hope says awkwardly. She puts a hand to her head, tired of trying to make this make sense. Her eyes meet the floor, “I don’t understand.”

  
  


“Um, kind of like that. But it was just at the start of the year. We don't do that. Not anymore,” Josie adds at last, putting her hand on top of the sink counter. “I just need you to understand that we aren’t together. It’s just for my family.”

  
  


“We talk all the time and she understands. And trust me, she doesn’t have feelings for me,” Josie says, her voice wavering. Hope still can’t understand. If it’s the jealousy clouding her mind, she chooses not to see it.

  
  


“So she just does anything for you? Kiss you when you want it? Have sex with you when you want it—”

  
  


“No. I told you, not anymore,” Josie stings, her voice taking on a new level of anger. “We’re best friends.”

  
  


“Oh well, that’s funny, cause I don’t kiss my best friends and I definitely don’t have sex with them,” Hope frowns, now just unable to hear or hold on to any word the girl says. The words pass by her like dust.

  
  


“Are you not listening?!” Josie whispers harshly, stepping closer to Hope. “You don’t get it. I swear you’re so fucking dull.”

  
  


Hope blinks at the insult. It never gets old hearing the girl cuss. Venom consumes the air, “I’m dull? Oh, okay. So you _didn’t_ ask me to leave my dorm so the two of you could have sex. So I _didn’t_ see you two holding hands just a few hours ago.”

  
  


She tries to hold the rest of it in, but the words escape her without much fight, “I _didn’t_ have to watch you, over and over and over again, with _her._ I _didn’t_ have to kiss you and then s-suffer with the view of you with _her_.”

  
  


Hope doesn’t have a single bone in her body that can lie, that can save her the embarrassment of what she’ll inevitably fill in the late morning.

  
  


“Listen to me,” Josie boxes her in, her hands pushing against her shoulders, forcing Hope to lock eyes with the girl and _hear_. “Her and I are nothing. We did...have sex...but that was at the start of the year. Like I told you.”

  
  


“We didn’t do anything at the tailgate, and we _don’t_ do anything anymore,” Josie sighs. She connects one of Hope’s hands with her own and rubs at the auburn-haired girl’s thumb, “I’m sorry I hurt you like this. It was never what I wanted. I poked at it in front of you because I just wanted to make you jealous. I was stupid. I’m still stupid.”

  
  


The girl is desperate and Hope's anger washes over, much like a wave. The shore and the ocean coming together. Again and again and again.

Hope lets herself lean into Josie’s touch, but they don't hug and they don’t kiss. They stand there, watching each other, breathing against each other.

  
  


Maybe being vulnerable isn’t so bad. It’s so interesting what the night uncovers, Hope distantly thinks. It’s so strange how honesty seems to light the stars up, making the night exist so fervently. “Maybe one day, I’ll be able to be with you in front of my family—in front of Lizzie—but I can’t promise you anything else right now.”

  
  


Hope hates how _one day_ sounds so far away. It sounds like years. It sounds like time in the afterlife. It sounds like a second existence. It sounds like _never_.

  
  


“Lizzie doesn’t care,” Hope says, trying to persuade the girl like she always happens to do.

  
  


“But my dad does. He knows Penelope and he’s okay with Penelope,” Josie exhales breathily, now only leaning against the counter. It hits her side and Hope watches the movement, backing further into her own space against the door.

  
  


Hope wonders why the girl in front of her cares so much for her father’s acceptance. She doesn’t even like her father. Why does she still care?

  
  


It causes Hope to think about her own father. She loved her father. She loved him with every breath she ever took in, with every breath she ever exhaled. But she’s learned to accept that she isn’t betraying him. She isn’t. She’s thought it over hundreds of times. He would’ve wanted her to be happy.

  
  


Why can’t Josie also accept that?

  
Time has made her think, overthink, and then think again. Hope just wants to be happy.

  
  


Maybe the only difference between them is the fact that Hope’s father is dead—alive well only in memory—and Josie’s father is here.

  
  


“Why can’t he be okay with no one? You don’t have to be with anyone,” Hope tries again, but the words seem horrible even to her. She has said this before, and Josie has turned it down before. Josie doesn’t have to have someone. It’s her first year of college. There doesn’t have to be a _someone_ , at least not in front of her family.

  
  


Hope’s headache worsens and she rubs at the skin above her eyebrows, trying to ease it.

  
  


Josie nods and Hope’s headache disappears in almost a second, dismissing happily at the gesture, “Give me time.”

  
  


“You have forever,” Hope sighs, melancholy digging in her heart. Hope will wait forever. 

  
  


Fuck. Hope can be so dramatic at times. They’re eighteen.

  
  


Hope takes the silence just to acknowledge how blown Josie’s pupils are. She can barely see any brown and Hope wonders if her own are the same.

  
  


Probably.

  
  


A blanket of quietness wraps around their shoulders and a heavy tear falls from one of Josie’s eyes. 

  
  


The nighttime. It’s so emotional, so eventful. So _there_. The nighttime’s nature is only to be alive. Some things never come out in the sunshine, never tread to the day. Is this one of them?

  
  


Josie’s face falls into _that_ look. The look that tells Hope to kiss her. The look that says she _wants_ to be kissed. To be comforted. To be absolutely torn apart.

  
  


She saw this look earlier in the day, where she sat on the bench and watched as Josie walked away. Or a few hours ago where she stood in the doorway, dismissing Josie with _Goodnight_. 

  
  


She regretted both times and the duality of the memory springs in her mind, not allowing her to think of anything else but _kissing_ Josie.

  
  


Hope starts to lean in.

  
  


She won’t regret it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sry for the short chapter. thanks for all the comments and support


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I guess humans  
> like to watch  
> a little destruction.  
> Sandcastles,  
> house of cards,  
> that's where they begin.
> 
> -Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so SORRY, i hope this update makes up for it...my work schedule is pretty easy-going next week so :) also, thanks for commenting and reminding me to update LOL I'M SORRY

Hope wakes up the following morning. For _some_ reason, it’s easier to open her eyes, easier to get up, easier to climb out of the bed that she’s sharing with Maya.

  
  


Although the girl has basically gotten three hours of sleep, she feels more energetic than the start of any other day she had to suffer living through. Hope even had a dreamless night—she didn’t have to deal with her usual nightmares, which occur almost every single time she falls asleep. 

  
  


But occasionally, for the past few weeks, they’ve been filled with a certain brown-haired girl: Josie Saltzman.

  
  


Her dreams of Josie are easily one of the best things about her nights. Sometimes, she even goes to sleep hoping just to dream of the girl. Hope’s dreams of her roommate are never bad and they never turn nightmarish.

  
  


They are always _good_ dreams. Dreams of softness, not longingness. Hope wakes up hoping for another dream of the girl, but doesn’t ever find herself wanting to go back to sleep. That’s what she enjoys the most about her dreams of Josie. She can draw a line between reality and fantasy.

  
  


Other things—other dreams—aren’t so comforting. It _isn’t_ so nice to wake up after dreaming about her _dead_ mother, and then wish to never wake up again. It _isn’t_ so nice to wake up after talking with her _dead_ father, and then wish to go back for just one moment to be able to see him again.

  
  


Her heart doesn’t drag heavily in her chest after a dream of Josie. She feels motivated to actually wake up after. The funny thing is, Hope doesn’t always remember what happens in her dreams of Josie.

  
  


Several times, she wakes up, the skin along the shell of her ear scorched and burning as if Josie had just whispered something into it herself. She can’t always remember what the girl had said exactly, but she does _always_ feel phantom touches across her entire body whenever she finally wakes up. A trail tingles from her ear all the way to her toes, reminding Hope that the brown-haired girl is _there_ , but blurred.

  
  


Hope wakes up just assuming, just knowing it was her.

  
  


It couldn’t be anyone else.

  
  


The line between reality doesn’t ever once blur, though.

  
  


It’s what Hope likes the most about her dreams of Josie. Hope doesn’t hold on to it. Not like she does with her parents, when she wakes up remembering everything. 

  
  


It’s every single word and every single action. It falls back to her memory effortlessly, as if her mind won’t let go of what happened. Her heart wants to grieve, and grieve, and grieve, and then never become better. 

  
  


Hope finds it weird that she can remember every single sequence of her dreams with her parents. She wonders if anyone else can remember their dreams so vividly.

  
  


If anyone else can picture one’s smile so perfectly, without months and months of seeing them. If anyone else can remember one’s voice so clearly, even without hearing it for so long.

  
  


Her dreams provide her with all of this. Over and over again. She doesn’t think she’ll ever forget.

  
  


Since good dreams don’t frequent Hope's mind, not having a dream today is decidedly better.

  
  


The ride back to the campus is pretty long, and the blue-eyed girl tries not to look in Josie’s direction too much. Half of her wants to text the girl and communicate with her in any way. They haven’t talked the whole morning and the slight distance between them—four feet—isn’t enough to deter her desire to be close to Josie. 

  
  


She hasn’t caught her roommate's eye for an hour and wonders if the girl is playing hard to get or just isn’t acknowledging her. The events of last night are still fresh in Hope’s mind. She can’t help but replay them constantly in her head, over and over again on repeat, with no end in sight. Even when she tries to think about something else, her thoughts always circle back to Josie, always come back to Josie. 

  
  


She ends up choosing not to text the girl, feeling extremely tired.

  
  


Hope falls asleep two hours in and opens her eyes just as they arrive back on campus. Her nap somehow makes her more tired and she returns back to her dorm, departing from her friends.

  
  


Josie stays back for a little longer and Hope decides not to wait for her. That would be weird and they’re definitely not like...that.

  
  


Right?

  
  


Once she gets back to her dorm, she takes a quick shower. It’s the middle of the afternoon, but she doesn’t really have any school work to do. It’s only been a month since school started, and her work load isn’t too heavy. She’s still beyond stressed, anyhow.

  
  


She turns off the lights and falls into her bed, closing her eyes. Exhaustion overcomes her and she dozes off once again.

  
  


-

  
  


She wakes up a few hours later, opening her eyes slowly. She rubs at them and then sits up, finding Josie on her own bed. The lights are now turned on and Josie’s curled up into her blanket, sitting up on the headboard.

  
  


“What time is it?” Hope asks, although she really could’ve just checked her phone. She sighs. Is she that desperate for conversation with the brown-eyed girl?

  
  


“It’s almost eight,” Josie absentmindedly answers, doing something on her laptop. She’s typing rather fast and Hope tries not to laugh at her.

  
  


Her response catches Hope off guard, though.

  
  


“Wait, what? Why didn’t you wake me up?” Hope runs her fingers through her hair, trying to fix her rugged appearance. She’s self-conscious under the girl’s gaze. She hates naps so, so much. She doesn’t ever feel good after taking them.

  
  


Josie puts her laptop to the side, “Oh, I’m sorry, I was supposed to wake you up?”

  
  


It’s sarcastic by all means and Hope ignores her, standing up to try to not feel like such a dead corpse. Josie sighs, catching Hope’s attention yet again. She adds after a moment, “Plus, you looked peaceful. And, uh, I don’t see you asleep often.”

  
  


_What?_

  
  


Her roommate’s voice sounds a little scratchy, but the words come out so serious and natural that it makes Hope’s heart combust and then restart again. Josie’s eyes dart across the floor and her cheeks flush. Hope forgets to breathe for a second.

  
  


She suddenly isn’t so sure she has any lungs to breathe _with_.

  
  


She also suddenly isn’t so sure she has a heart either.

  
  


If anything, it’s up in the air flying over to Josie. It’s dancing around in a world of paradise, one where Josie is the center of the world and Hope is just _there_.

  
  


And it can only be considered an utter privilege.

  
  


Hope’s face paints slightly red, but she turns around before Josie can see her. She awkwardly coughs, “Oh.”

  
  


She pours water on her face, leaving the bathroom door open, and then brushes her teeth. She comes back out a moment later.

  
  


“Are you hungry?” The blue-eyed girl asks out right, her stomach grumbling from not having eaten basically for the whole day. She doesn’t know where she’s going with it. She doesn’t know if she really has the energy to leave and get something to eat, or if she just wants take-out.

  
  


Josie gets out of her bed, wearing shorts and an oversized t-shirt. She noticeably looks cute and Hope tries not to eye her legs.

  
  


“Are you offering?” Josie lifts an eyebrow, setting her laptop on their shared nightstand. Hope nods, incapable of even mumbling. Josie’s appearance is a painting in its own and Hope hates how it makes her want to take a picture of the girl and _paint_ her. 

  
  


She wants to be in this moment forever. It’s something she thinks about now, right as she’s looking at the girl. It’s such a typical thing to say, but she can’t help but think it.

  
  


The brown-haired girl’s face is lit up, her skin tan and beach-kissed.

  
  


Hope can’t describe it any other way than very, very attractive. A sentence finally falls from her lips after Josie patiently just looks at her, “We can go out or I can order food?”

  
  


It sounds a lot like a _date_ and the auburn-haired girl hopes that Josie won’t acknowledge it. She leaves it open to her roommate, not trying to pick the wrong thing. They’ve already fought enough.

  
  


“We can order-in, if that’s okay,” Josie says shyly, meeting Hope’s eyes. “I’m kind of tired.”

  
  


Hope agrees almost instantly. She doesn’t feel like getting dressed and leaving. Their shared dorm allows her to look at Josie freely. It allows her to continue to be in this moment where it’s just them.

  
  


It feels secretive and Hope likes the idea of it. Of Josie, here, in front of Hope’s eye-line.

  
  


Hope doesn’t have to look away, scared someone else will catch her looking. She doesn’t have to force herself _not_ to look. Josie’s just here. It’s nice.

  
  


“What do you feel like?”

  
  


The girl in front of her smiles.

  
  


“Definitely not pineapple pizza,” Josie shrugs as a smug look spreads across her face. Hope’s eyes devour her lips instantly—the way they upturn, how they’re always so red all the time. She can see it even from where she’s at in the middle of the room.

  
  


Hope licks her own lips and makes a mental note to put on lip balm or something. She really can’t be kissing Josie like this. So chapped. Why are her lips chapped?

  
  


She blames it on the nap.

  
  


“You have no taste,” Hope sighs, shaking her head with a slight smile. “Have you ever even tried pineapple with pizza?”

  
  


“No,” Josie says, seeming almost embarrassed at the admission. Hope doesn’t know how she could hate something without even trying it. Josie continues with a straighter face, “But I’d rather die.”

  
  


A fucking comedian.

  
  


Hope moves closer to Josie’s bed and then sits on it, toying with the sheets. Soft. She thinks Josie is about to push her off, but the girl just watches her. It’s a little endearing how Josie is seemingly watching her every move.

  
  


“I bet if I blindfolded you and made you try it without telling you what it was,” Hope says, “You wouldn’t be opposed.”

  
  


Hope smirks a little smugly, but it’s hardly perceptible—just a single corner of her lips raised barely a centimeter. She’s too busy thinking about how comfortable Josie’s bed looks. Hope should probably change her own comforter.

  
  


Josie joins her on the bed, the dip in the bed catching her attention. Hope, all at once, feels this sudden need to be closer to the girl. To hold her or to kiss her. Is this what craving affection is?

  
  


Hope’s never been one to be affectionate. But now it feels so hard not to lie next to the girl and not to intertwine their hands together. It’s weird how desperate she feels for a touch. She feels this dark, abrupt pull at her chest, this anxious feeling that being near Josie isn’t enough.

  
  


She wants more. Much, much more. It’s a cruel feeling, something quite untouchable. One can’t touch someone for every second of the day, one can’t be close to someone every second of the day.

  
  


It’s...unattainable.

  
  


And Hope’s privileged-ass has never experienced something beyond reach—has never experienced a feeling quite like this before. Hope wonders distantly if this weekend has made her feel like this—everything that happened, everything her and Josie have talked about.

  
  


It’s called _getting used to something_ , and Hope doesn’t like that idea very much.

  
  


Josie’s fingers dance close to where Hope’s own lay. It makes her feel more hopeful. 

  
  


Hope’s skin buzzes for contact—such a dangerous thing—and her own fingers stretch out. She fixes her gaze on Josie and pulls away, trying to kill her temptation of intertwining their hands.

  
  


“So you’re gonna blindfold me?” Josie’s eyes light up and there’s that same _damn_ glint that Hope is now too familiar with. A teasing smile forms from Josie’s lips and Hope tries not to flush at the thick innuendo. 

  
  


Josie leans in just a little bit and the blue-eyed girl distances away, trying to control herself yet again.

  
  


“Because you’re right. I wouldn’t mind,” Josie continues, her voice somehow deeper than a second ago. It comes out very filthy and Hope can’t tell if she’s joking and just playing with her.

  
  


Hope chooses to play along.

  
  


“Really? Because I can—”

  
  


She’s cut off by Josie’s loud, roaring giggles. A second later, Hope finds herself smiling as well. But then Hope stops her laughter, her expression blanking. She tries again, but more casually, “I can tie you up right here and go down on y—”

  
  


“Shut up!” Josie’s laughter becomes music to Hope’s ears and she decides she never wants Josie to stop smiling. Ever. The girl in front of her shoves her off the bed and Hope stands up, searching for her phone. She should probably order something.

  
  


“But really, what do you want?” Hope says the second after Josie has finally sobered and stopped laughing—it takes more than a minute. The brown-eyed girl stays quiet for a moment and Hope continues to look through her food delivery app, seeing what’s closest to them. 

  
  


She doesn’t really notice Josie coming up to her, and she definitely doesn’t notice how close Josie is to her. The deli place she was eyeing online, looked _really_ good.

  
  


“You,” Josie says—with no humour at all—and takes Hope’s phone out of her hand. She tosses it behind her. Hope whines when she hears a slight cracking sound as her phone hits the ground. She cocks her head to the side, staring at the direction her phone is in forlornly. 

  
  


Josie really couldn’t have thrown it on either of the beds?

  
  


Actually, Josie doesn't even seem to care that she basically just broke Hope’s phone. Whatever. It’s not like Hope can’t just buy another one. 

Nope. Instead of showing any remorse, Josie just floats back and forth like a ghost, bouncing on her heels slightly, wringing her hands together a little nervously, perhaps thinking. She seems to settles whatever she had been thinking over, and comes at Hope quickly. It’s still enough time to make Hope confused.

  
  


The brown-haired girl pretty much leaps at Hope, connecting their lips with no warning. Hope smiles slightly, disrupting their kiss. It’s an arrogant smile, and Josie doesn’t appear to like it at all.

  
  


The young Mikaelson’s smile falls off her face when one of Josie’s hands slips under her shirt. It’s barely there, barely perceivable, but Hope feels it like a burst of fire on an open wound. It’s a gust of wind, blowing the both of them over.

  
  


She’s so sensitive. She hasn’t had someone in so long.

  
  


Josie’s other hand lies underneath Hope’s chin next to her jaw, pulling her upwards to meet her height. There’s only a few inches between them, but Hope doesn’t care. She can’t feel it when they meet so naturally—the shore only _lives_ for the ocean.

  
  


Hope isn’t short. She isn’t.

  
  


Josie’s fingers scratch at her abdomen, tracing there lightly and gently. Hope tries to ignore the way her stomach pulls down abruptly after each light touch. It makes her realize just how fast Josie has turned her on.

  
  


Sex wasn’t even on her mind a second ago.

  
  


Now it’s all she’s thinking about.

  
  


Hope’s mouth moves hotly on Josie’s, fighting her with the most absent amount of willpower. She tries to push Josie backwards, wanting to be more balanced out—the middle of the room gives her absolutely _no_ backing—but the girl stands in place.

  
  


The brown-haired girl lightly shoves Hope back, and she hits the frame of the bed forcefully. Hope’s knees buckle and she resists the urge to fall back onto her mattress and take Josie with her.

  
  


Josie’s fingers pull lightly at her scalp and the other hand lies above Hope’s hip, still dipping under her shirt. It makes her feel dizzy and completely winded all of a sudden. She tries to breathe through her nose, but all she can smell is Josie. Josie. Josie.

  
  


Hope pulls away, her lungs begging for air. She tries to stop herself before her or Josie go too far, “We should probably order—”

  
  


She opens her eyes to find Josie’s own—her pupils are fully blown, darkened, and she’s biting her lip in a way that makes Hope’s problem _worse_. It’s so hard to tear her eyes away from Josie’s expression.

  
  


Hope’s alarmed with how the look in someone’s eyes can be such a big turn-on.

  
  


She shakes her head, trying to dispel her thoughts. Bad. So, so bad.

  
  


Josie doesn’t seem to care or worry about anything, because she finally pushes Hope back onto the mattress. It’s quick and somehow slow at the same time. It feels like a millisecond when Josie climbs on top of her, and it feels like an hour when Josie moves back down to reconnect their lips.

  
  


She straddles the girl, and Hope stays compliant, fighting back the urge to change their positions. Hope puts her hands on the girl’s waist, holding her still and trying to keep some dignity and control. God. This is so embarrassing. She’s never submitted to someone else so easily before. She feels like completely melting away.

  
  


It’s a memory. A memory of how Josie smells, feels, tastes. Hope breathes her in, _wants_ her.

  
  


She wants her more than she could’ve ever imagined. Not just like this—kissing. But talking, experiencing. Hope wants her alone. She doesn’t want to share.

  
  


Their fronts brush up against each other—for a second, and then again—and Hope attempts to gather the will to completely stop their make-out session. She can’t. She’s so selfish.

  
  


They keep pressing against each other, Josie continuously moving downwards to kiss Hope comfortably. Hope tries not to be too affected and shocked over this—she tries to cherish it. It’s normal. Kissing Josie like this is normal.

  
  


They’ve barely been civil to each other—holding a record of only a few days. So what?

  
  


When Hope slides her arm around the girl’s waist and deepens the kiss, Josie’s hips shift up abruptly. She almost grinds down on Hope’s lower stomach, moving roughly against her, and the blue-eyed girl has the sudden idea of just _taking_ her. They’re in college. They don’t have to wait.

  
  


Josie stops their kiss and Hope—for a second—thinks that they’re done and she can just pull away and pull herself together.

  
  


Josie is far from done.

  
  


Her lips, right away, lock onto the spot near Hope’s pulse point. Hope involuntarily groans, her vocal cords betraying her completely. Her eyelids shut harshly and she grips the bed sheets underneath her.

  
  


She grits her teeth to prevent any further embarrassing sound, but it’s futile.

  
  


Is it Josie’s plan to seduce her entirely?

  
  


She knows Josie is smiling above her. It seems as though Josie’s lips carve a print into her neck, and she can feel the damn smile. Josie kisses up and down her neck, not missing one single area.

  
  


Another moan falls from Hope’s lips when Josie latches onto just the right spot. Her eyes shoot open, the white ceiling greets her, and she jerks up. Their hips dig into each other, Hope’s canting upwards helplessly. She’s forced back down on the mattress by Josie’s own.

  
  


Hope gets humiliated immediately, again, not for the first time. Why is she always reacting like this?

  
  


The contact makes Hope flush with heat and it spreads throughout her body like electricity, coiling within her. The brown-haired girl on top of her pulls away a little and Hope misses her warmth instantly.

  
  


Josie is always so warm.

  
  


Hope rolls her eyes as she’s met with another smug smirk. The way the girl’s lips pull together are distinctive. Josie tilts her head—a silent question—and Hope thinks Josie has _way_ too much power, straddling her like this.

  
  


“That was a reflex,” Hope tries to say, but it comes out helpless and fully unbelievable. She clears her throat, feeling like she has to do this all the fucking time.

  
  


When did her voice get like that?

  
  


She wants to tease the girl, and tell her that she _knows_ Josie is just as turned on, but words don’t come.

  
  


“I’m sure it was,” Josie murmurs above her, looking down at Hope distractedly. Hope feels so exposed, so submissive. Usually, it kills her to be so.

  
  


Right now?

  
  


Not even a little.

  
  


Josie looks so sensual and erotic, Hope can’t help but gawk up at her. Hope hates how her roommate is only fully clothed and just kissing is making her so...so fucking hot.

  
  


Their eyes lock and Josie’s own fire with intensity, and the smoke _burns_. Hope becomes completely enraptured by Josie’s small, intimate smile. Like Josie is smiling just for her. Like Hope is worth smiling for.

  
  


Hope sees much, much more now. Josie seems so bare. Hope doesn’t want to ruin it.

  
  


Josie kisses her again, but gently this time, as if willing the moment to last for a century. It’s one of those kisses where Hope can’t focus on anything else. Not right now. Hope heart swells at how leisurely the girl is holding on to her. 

  
  


Forever slithers between them, sliding across Josie’s lips and grasping onto Hope.

  
  


Time isn’t a clock. It can’t be. Not when Josie is above her like this, acting like there’s all the _time_ in the world.

  
  


Josie blinks, as if realizing or remembering something, then pulls away completely, standing up. 

  
  


“You should probably order something before it gets too late.”

  
  


Hope feels completely winded and dumbfounded…What the fuck? How can she just act like that?

  
  


Josie smiles again, but this time it actually reveals something has happened between them a second ago. It’s only really to poke at Hope. “—That is, if you’re still hungry.”

  
  


Hope is still in a fair amount of shock. She almost feels like running up to the girl and cuddling her and more, which is _completely_ out of character.

  
  


She pauses.

  
  


“Oh, I _see_ ,” Hope smiles, acting all-knowing. She won’t let herself get poked at again. Hope gets up, too, searching for her phone. She picks it up and smirks fully, her tone becoming playful. She’s half-joking, half-wanting an answer, “You couldn’t control yourself.”

  
  


It sounds ridiculous coming out of her mouth, but if the way Josie blushes is any confirmation then Hope is spot-on. The blue-eyed girl is partly still on fire. She’s still not used to kissing Josie so frequently.

  
  


“I think we should get Mexican. There’s this good place that does take-out near us,” Josie speaks over her, opening up her laptop again. She has these cute stickers on the cover, but Hope doesn’t recognize them from any movie, show, book, or brand.

  
  


The girl sits down, tucking herself back in her bed in an adorable-cute-child type of way. Hope moves over to her, shutting the girl’s laptop and taking it away from her.

  
  


“Hey!” Josie tries to get it back from where Hope is holding it hostage, but she’s too wrapped up in her blanket to even move an inch. “I was ordering for us!” 

  
  


She’s in such a position where Hope greedily wants to steal a kiss. Like they didn’t just suck the life out of each other moments ago.

  
  


“Wait. I wanted a sandwich,” Hope frowns, immediately forgetting what she was gonna say—immediately forgetting what direction she wanted the conversation to go in.

  
  


“You’re really _that_ picky?” Josie squints her eyes, feigning annoyance. It distracts Hope enough to where Josie steals her laptop back.

  
  


“Whatever,” Hope mumbles, going on her phone to order the food. She lies down on her own bed, not wanting to be weird by staying so close to Josie. “What did you want from that Mexican place again?”

  
  


-

  
  


Half an hour later, their food is delivered. They had to order from two different places and while waiting for the food, they spend the time arguing about stupid shit for no reason.

  
  


Hope learns the difference between different styles of rice, learns that Josie wears socks to sleep. She learns that Josie was first hired when she was sixteen and just switched locations, before she first moved in at the college campus. Hope learns that Josie has a weird fixation on fruity drinks, and she even listens to Josie talk about different celebrities.

  
  


There’s _so so so_ much more and Hope tries to take in everything as best as she can.

  
  


Although Hope has no clue what she’s even talking about during the whole time, she still nods enthusiastically every so often. The girl is _really_ hard to follow. Hope still finds it endearing, though.

  
  


She brightens up when she’s interested in something. She plays with her hands anxiously whenever she forgets something for a moment and she can _never_ stop moving. She rubs her left eyebrow with her fingers periodically, but it’s never when she talks or is explaining something.

  
  


Hope has never been so interested while talking to someone. Not lately. Hope herself doesn’t even care to utter a single word, her ears are too attuned to what Josie is saying.

  
  


Hope can’t even begin to focus on creating words herself.

  
  


“Are you even paying attention?” Josie asks her, a minute into her speech about German literature. Hope has kinda zoned out. Or at least, zoned _into_ Josie’s face. Specifically her little baby hairs at the top of her head.

  
  


But that was only _after_ looking at the girl’s lips again.

  
  


“Of course I was—” Hope frowns, correcting herself in the most unconvincing tone, “— _am_. Of course I am.”

  
  


“Then what did I just say?” Josie asks, biting into her torta. The two are sitting on the floor now, between the space of their two beds. Hope is backed up into her own bed frame, Josie into her own as well.

  
  


“Uh,” Hope’s eyes dart to the floor, trying to remember what the girl was talking about. Up until now, she has been listening. It just gets hard when Josie is so pretty. “Zusak something something?”

  
  


It comes out like a question, but Josie ignores her tone. Hope sighs in relief when the girl in front of her continues on talking—Hope was right.

  
  


-

  
  


Monday and Tuesday pass quickly. Hope doesn’t get to see Josie either of the two days, and on Monday she falls asleep before Josie even gets back to the dorm.

  
  


Josie having a job is a real _bitch_.

  
  


She does like texting the girl, though. Josie texts her throughout the day, and Hope’s heart speeds up whenever she receives a message. Although she doesn’t really know Josie’s full schedule—they haven’t talked about that—she’s glad the girl takes time out of her day to send one or two messages.

  
  


They haven’t even followed each other on social media yet, and Hope _still_ doesn’t have her number. Should Hope have asked for her number?

  
  


They text on direct messages, but Hope finds she ultimately likes it best.

  
  


Josie always texts her first, and she’s either completely teasing the girl, or being cute about something. They don’t text a lot, though. If anything, it’s a few messages here and there.

  
  


Hope would much rather respond in person. She’s too stuck to her old-fashioned—before social media—ways. Much like her father.

  
  


Tuesday, Hope does see Josie. The girl gets off her shift and comes home around ten, but the brunette looks so, so tired. Hope ends up not wanting to bother her and the two catch up for a minute before Josie falls asleep, barely able to even walk or move.

  
  


Hope hasn’t had a nightmare for three whole nights. She wonders if it’s because of the girl sleeping next to her, or if it’s just happenstance.

  
  


She tries not to obsess over it so much.

  
  


-

  
  


On Wednesday, Hope wakes up early for her art class. She’s nervous to see Landon because, well, he didn’t go to the beach trip, and _everyone_ knows why. She hasn’t seen him since Friday.

  
  


Josie’s still asleep before she leaves and she tries to tread the room as silently as possible. A month ago, she wouldn’t have cared in the slightest.

  
  


Now, as she tiptoes around the room, she looks like the biggest whipped-idiot in the whole world.

  
  


She gets to class early, sitting down where she usually sits. She crosses her fingers, hoping he won’t talk or say something. It doesn’t work. Maybe she should’ve crossed more than just her fingers.

  
  


“Hey, Hope,” he says behind her, drawing Hope’s attention the second she sits down. She swears she didn’t see him. “How did the beach thing go?”

  
  


_Lizzie basically killed us all with her annoying-ass voice_ —

  
  


“Good,” she swallows, turning around to meet him. She lies through her teeth, “You should’ve went.”

  
  


“I wasn’t feeling so well,” he murmurs, taking a notebook out of his bag. Shit. She kind of feels bad. “But I’m glad you had fun.”

  
  


Hope wants to mention the fact that she was basically forced into going the minute Maya said yes _for_ them, but instead she just changes the subject. 

  
  


“Yeah, it was a pretty calm trip I guess,” another lie, “...Did you do the homework?”

  
  


“You mean copying the notes?” The curly-haired boy asks, frowning in confusion. Hope nods.

  
  


Their professor really made the whole class copy down notes. Handwritten. Hope doubts she’ll even go over them or say anything about it.

  
  


She’s sure that the older lady just wanted everyone to suffer. Is copying down notes even a thing anymore? Hope gathers her papers, “How long did they take you to do?”

  
  


He answers, but she doesn’t quite hear it over the loud noise of the door opening. Of course the one classroom for the art department completely sucks ass. Every single time the door opens, it feels like a bulldozer is running through the quad area.

  
  


Hope knows that this school isn’t an _art_ school, but with all of their funding...they couldn’t afford to just fix it?

  
  


The professor walks in and everyone quiets right away. Everyone talks mad shit about the class, but Hope knows it’s just a facade. The lectures are always interesting, and it’s easily one of her favorite courses she’s taking.

  
  


She sets up her stuff—which takes over five minutes—and then starts.

  
  


She goes over what they’ll be doing and then says, “So...how are the projects coming along?”

  
  


Hope’s heart drops in her chest.

  
  


_Projects?_

  
  


Did she forget something?

  
  


All the students stay silent. The teacher speaks up again, “Um...the paintings?”

  
  


_Ohhh_.

  
  


Shoot. Hope had kind of forgotten about that. It’s in the back of her mind. She thinks about it time and time again, and sometimes even gets inspiration for what she should do.

  
  


But all in all, she hasn’t settled on one idea completely.

  
  


“Well, just to remind you, they’re due next Wednesday,” the professor continues. The looks on her students’ faces aren’t completely reassuring. “Don’t worry too much about it. I’m not grading the project on how it looks, so some of you should be fine.”

  
  


Hope stifles a laugh, but sort of feels relieved. Although she likes to paint, she still is looking for ideas. She had thought of doing a genre painting, but now isn’t so sure. A landscape painting seems better now.

  
  


One idea had been prominent in her mind. At first she had thought of the coffee shop. Then she thought of Josie, or something to do with Josie. Then she thought of the campus. Now it’s that same idea stuck in her head: the lake.

  
  


Her and her father had always painted at the lake together, ever since she was seven. It’s only an hour away from the college campus, and Hope can basically paint it from memory.

  
  


She just doesn’t know if she can get through painting it. It’s all too nostalgic for her. It’s all too soon. 

  
  


It’s her father. It makes Hope want to go back to the old storage room, and dig through his old paintings. Painting had been their one and only true hobby together. Painting had made her see her father more, apart from all of his daily meetings and office days.

  
  


Maybe Hope can get away with it. She’s sure she had seen her father paint the view of the lake several times. She can be like him. She’ll paint like him. It’ll work out.

  
  


She _won’t_ break down crying. It’s not in her.

  
  


“Any questions?” The teacher asks. No hands raise, silence the only true sound.

  
  


“Great,” she clasps her hands together, “Let’s get started.”

  
  


-

  
  


Hope has her Economics Intro class right after, and she stops by the school’s dining hall to pick up a drink. She stops by the selection. Wow. Her campus has _quite_ the variety. The cafeteria kind of reminds Hope of a mini mall food court.

  
  


She distantly remembers that Josie likes fruity drinks—a strawberry-banana combo specifically.

  
  


The blue-eyed girl is able to remember it because she finds it odd that the girl works at a coffee shop but doesn’t really like caffeinated drinks.

  
  


Hope picks up both a smoothie and a sports drink for the girl, not quite knowing what she’d prefer. 

  
  


She grabs a bottle of water for herself, then pays and leaves. She arrives a minute before the class starts. The room is, as of now, filled up, Josie already there in her normal seat.

  
  


She’s sitting next to Milton, like she always does. Hope cringes. How is she supposed to give her the drinks? She’s already moving through the doorway and doesn’t have much time to think of a solid plan.

  
  


Josie has her back turned, distracted and leaning towards Milton. Hope walks to the spot where the brunette is and settles the drinks on her small fold-able desk. She then continues to where she usually sits, walking up the steps to the back.

  
  


It’s kind of like a TED talk stadium.

  
  


She’s immediately glad that Josie doesn’t call her back or try to talk to her. The auburn-haired girl hopes that Milton doesn’t find it weird. _Is_ it weird?

  
  


Hope doesn’t ever do these kinds of things. She wouldn’t know.

  
  


Hope settles into her seat and takes out her binder, preparing herself for the class. Her eyes cast downwards to where Josie sits, and even from slightly behind her, Hope can see a wide smile on her face. The girl is already chugging down one of the drinks, with Milton watching her.

  
  


The smile that spreads across Hope’s own face is inevitable. Her own embarrassment dies down. It was worth it.

  
  


She catches her professor’s eye—who is somehow _not_ late today like normal—and he’s looking between them with narrowed eyes. Shit.

  
  


Hope feels a slight heart attack as she meets his eyes, and turns away, hiding her face. She pretends to study something on her notes and eventually feels his stare go away.

  
  


The class starts soon.

  
  


“So today we’ll be going over different models,” the young man says, messing with a few papers on his large desk. Everything else he says, goes past Hope’s ears as she promptly feels a buzzing in her pocket. She takes it out. It’s Josie.

  
  


**chivalry isn’t dead?**

  
  


Hope smirks, reading the message over and over again. She hides her phone in front of her notebook, turning down her brightness.

  
  


_that’s what you call chivalry?_

  
  


She double-texts.

  
  


_such low expectations :(_

  
  


Hope smiles slightly, turning her attention back to the slides. Hope knows politeness like no other, if her father and uncle had taught her anything. She just hasn’t really shown it. Especially to Josie. Their past arguing hasn’t really given her the time to prove it.

  
  


She’s about to put her phone away, when her phone flashes. Another message.

  
  


**shut up**

  
  


Josie double-texts, too. 

  
  


**you’re very charming**

  
  


Butterflies fill Hope’s stomach, pressing into her organs and dancing around. Her heart beats fast and she tries to calm down. It’s just texting. It’s just texting.

  
  


She glances to where Josie is. The brunette is looking up at the board, a curious look on her face...like she’s really paying attention. It’s very amusing.

  
  


Hope puts her phone away, excited to see Josie after class. She hopes that the girl doesn’t have work. She tries to focus, but she feels too giddy to even lay her eyes on the board for longer than a second.

  
  


She scribbles down notes, but her handwriting becomes really, really illegible. She looks around the room. Everyone has a laptop. She completely forgot to bring hers to class. 

  
  


Her mind is too preoccupied with the likes of Josie now.

  
  


About an hour later, class is dismissed. Hope gets out of her seat, spotting Josie already in the doorway. She chooses to follow after her, putting her stuff hurriedly in her bag and pacing down the steps. Her professor stops her a few feet before she gets to the door.

  
  


“Hope, if you can stay behind for just a moment,” he stands in front of her, putting a stop to her idea of following Josie. Hope glances behind him, looking past his shoulder. The brunette disappears behind the crowd of students, completely out of sight.

  
  


The blue-eyed girl sighs, sitting down. “Sure.”

  
  


What would he ever need from her?

  
  


“I’m just going to be blunt,” he starts, when the room finally clears. He sits on top of his desk, his legs hanging over the side. His left eyebrow arches, as if in thought.

  
  


Hope waits. His eyes are dark, but not in excitement. He noticeably looks miserable, his face dampened in stress. He crosses his arms slowly, his eyes shying away from Hope’s tired glance. He busies himself with something on his desk—his damn nameplate.

  
  


He’s considered the “cool” professor. This is weird.

  
  


When he first talks, his voice is scratchy.

  
  


“...I, uh, knew your father.”

  
  


Hope’s breath catches in her throat and she has to do a double-take to confirm she heard right. Several questions float to her brain and several flashbacks come to her. All at once.

  
  


It’s the funeral where she had to talk and talk and _talk_. To people who she didn’t know. Who all had the same thing to say.

  
  


_You don’t remember me, but I knew your parents._

  
  


She hasn’t heard it in so long.

  
  


It’s the ceremony where people passed by her, placing their hands on her shoulder and looking at her in pity. It never provided her comfort. The hand just felt _cold_. 

  
  


The hand always ran past her dark, black dress, right through the damn fabric and completely tormenting her skin. She hated that black dress. The one that she had to _buy_ because she had none. The one that she had to buy by herself.

  
  


She ripped it apart the minute she got home.

  
  


She froze every single time someone touched her. Every single time someone talked to her.

  
  


She freezes now.

  
  


“I wanted to tell you the first day I saw you,” he continues, now able to gather the courage to look the young Mikaelson in the eye. “I just didn’t think it was the right time.”

  
  


She wants to laugh. The right time?

  
  


Hope could care less. _Everyone_ knew her dad. She doesn’t need this.

  
  


No.

  
  


She doesn’t want to hear this.

  
  


“How?” She goes straight to the point, vice and anger mixing up in her sentence, turning the word bitter. She gets up from where she’s sitting. It’s a bad idea, because the minute she stands she feels dizzy. She puts a hand to her head, trying to balance herself.

  
  


In her eyes, there’s now _two_ of him. Bile raises in her throat and she swallows it down, her headache worsening. She leans against the wall.

  
  


“What do you mean?”

  
  


“How do you know my—my…” Hope can’t say it. She wonders how big of a mess she looks like. He comes closer to her, and she swears if he touches her shoulder she’ll kill him—

  
  


“We went to school together, for our MBA,” he smiles and looks at Hope. But it’s like he’s looking past her, like he’s not seeing her at all. It’s as if he’s remembering his little story. “I met him on my first day. What a son of a bitch.”

  
  


Hope finds herself listening. No one ever really went this far before. It was only:

  
  


_I knew him, so I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am._

  
  


“He spilled coffee on _me_ , and expected an apology,” her teacher shakes his head, starting to laugh. Hope finds it incredibly funny; it’s such a thing her father would do.

  
  


He takes out his wallet, looking through it.

  
  


“Well, did you?” Hope starts, feeling her nausea start to vanish.

  
  


“No. I didn’t do anything,” he shrugs, a playful look drowning his features. “He was mad because he was late to his lecture. But we began talking and later I offered to have him over to watch the Steelers play.”

  
  


“Wait. He hates football, though,” Hope frowns. He’d talk endless shit if anything was ever on the TV.

  
  


“I know!” The young man says, gesturing with his hands. “He told me a few weeks after. He just thought it would be fun to do something with someone.”

  
  


The atmosphere dies down. He holds out a photo from his wallet for Hope to see. His eyes look almost watery, “He didn’t have a lot of friends.” 

  
  


Hope takes the photo from his hands. It’s her professor and her father, on some ridiculous couch, taking a selfie.

  
  


Her father’s smile is huge, his teeth taking up most of the picture. Hope can’t take her eyes off of it. After a full minute, she begrudgingly gives it back.

  
  


Suddenly, Hope finds herself itching for another connection to her father, for another person who could describe in detail the way he saved the red M&M’s for last because he liked how they stained his hands red, who could pinpoint the inflection in his tone when he talked about certain politicians, who could remember his obsession with cutting his hair before it grew too long. 

  
  


She sighs. Klaus fucking Mikaelson. She loves her father so much. She can’t even say it in the past tense.

  
  


They talk for a few more minutes, although it’s mostly her professor carrying on the conversation. She leaves a minute later, wiping at her cheeks to make sure she doesn’t look so heartbroken and weak.

  
  


All Hope hears last is, “I’m looking out for you!” She can hear him smiling even without looking at him.

  
  


She waves and exits his classroom, immediately met with Josie who had been...waiting for her.

  
  


Hope’s heart dances in her chest at the sight.

  
  


“What did he want?” The brunette immediately asks and Hope hopes that she doesn’t look as pained as she feels. Anyways, she instantly had felt refreshed the second she walked out the door and laid eyes on her roommate.

  
  


“Nothing,” Hope stands alongside her, as they walk down the hallway together. “Don’t worry about it.”

  
  


She’s glad that Josie doesn’t push it. Josie only pauses for a second but then looks away, probably not wanting to pressure the girl. Hope will tell her later. Eventually.

  
  


Now she just wants to be able to _be_ with Josie. She hasn’t seen or very much talked to her for two days. Hope wants to tell her to quit her job, but she knows how selfish it is. It’s a horrible desire, especially with knowing how much Josie likes her job —how much she’s _fought_ for it.

  
  


Tell Josie to quit just so Hope can see her more? God. Hope hates herself.

  
  


She’ll throw herself off a cliff if she ever words it aloud. They’ve talked about jobs—especially Josie’s—so much now that Hope knows it’ll immediately make Josie upset. Plus, the job makes Josie happy.

  
  


Hope would never want to put an end to that.

  
  


Josie abruptly stops. She looks at Hope and then grabs her hand in the middle of the hallway. The auburn-haired girl freezes and looks around for students, but there aren’t any.

  
  


They’re alone.

  
  


She tugs Hope over to a door, opens it, and then pulls the both of them behind it. Her roommate closes the door and it falls back with a loud sound.

  
  


Hope looks around. It’s a large classroom, but it’s empty. All the classes are pretty much over now as it’s getting closer to the end of the day.

  
  


As soon as Hope turns around, Josie kisses her. It’s a chaste kiss, lasting all of five seconds. When they break apart, it feels like the distance of a mile to Hope. It’s barely even two feet.

  
  


“What was that for?” Hope questions, licking her lips. They feel sort of dry. Sort of chapped. Damn. Had she been kissing Josie with chapped lips? Hope wets her lips a second time, hoping that they’ll be able to kiss again. 

  
  


Soon.

  
  


“Thank you,” Josie smiles, avoiding her question. Her smile lights Hope on fire, burning her into sweet, small ashes. It’s intimate and shy and Hope tries not to let the fire burn so much.

  
  


“For?”

  
  


Josie looks up to the ceiling, acting deep in thought. She breaks into a laugh, “...The drinks.”

  
  


Hope shakes her head, trying not to laugh. She eyes the room again, looking at the walls and posters.

  
  


“Do you have a classroom kink I should be aware of?” Hope smiles, but loves how Josie is still holding her hand. It feels a lot like home, right underneath her fingertips.

  
  


Fuck, Hope is so consumed with Josie. She is so taken with her. Smitten with her. 

  
  


Josie disconnects their hands, walking around the room. It’s the middle of the afternoon, but there isn’t a lot of daylight outside. The windows don’t bring a lot of light, and the light bulbs in the room are dimmed.

  
  


“I don’t know,” Josie sits on top of one of the desks playfully. The room sort of reminds Hope of the large, elongated science tables in her old chemistry class in high school. Josie raises an eyebrow, “Do I?”

  
  


Hope walks up to her roommate, standing between her opened legs. She distances herself far enough away, hoping the urge to kiss the girl again won’t overcome her so badly.

  
  


“I think so,” Hope murmurs, pulling her hair into a ponytail. Josie watches her and Hope tries not to blush under the girl’s gaze. With her hair up, she automatically feels cooler.

  
  


The conversation between her and her professor had basically melted her into volcanic powder.

  
  


“—Why else would you bring me here?” Hope slightly smirks, rubbing at the back of her neck. She feels so sore. She now needs a new comforter, sheets, and a mattress.

  
  


“I missed you,” Josie gathers after a long moment, intertwining her other hand with Hope’s. She puts her head down on Hope’s chest, sighing. Hope lets her, trying not to lean in herself.

  
  


She wonders if Josie can feel her heartbeat pound.

  
  


Seeing Josie like this—so outwardly vulnerable—is something Hope hasn’t seen before. She tries not to shy away at it. It makes her feel like someone that Josie can rely on for comfort, and she hasn’t ever felt that with someone. Only maybe Maya and Sam.

  
  


They’ve never been like this towards each other—comforting—but Josie deserves it.

  
  


Hope can guess that Josie has had two long days. She guesses the girl is tired, and probably needs sleep. So even though she’s never done anything affectionate before, she’ll allow this.

  
  


“Do you have work today?” Hope asks and Josie finally pulls back, adjusting herself on the desk. The brunette scratches at her eyes.

  
  


“No,” she smiles excitedly, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Hope didn’t know she was _this_ tired. From far away, it isn’t really noticeable. Not when the girl always looks so full of energy.

  
  


“Go to sleep then,” Hope all but whispers, the room so quiet that the silence fills her ears like the annoying buzz of white noise. Josie shoves her, almost offended.

  
  


“It’s only three,” she says, acting like it’s the worst thing that’s ever been recommended to her.

  
  


“Then lay down or watch a movie,” Hope frowns, sure that she’s seen Josie asleep well before noon before.

  
  


“Fine,” Josie pouts, taking Hope’s hand so she can get off of the desk.

  
  


Hope knows she’ll fall asleep anyway, but doesn’t say anything.

  
  


-

  
  


On Thursday, Hope has three classes early but they’re each only an hour and a half long, so she gets back to her dorm well before noon.

  
  


She gets back to the dorm and decides to start her art project. She’ll finish any other class’ schoolwork later. Hope hates how she prioritizes her elective course so much. It’s getting really bad. Especially when she has an essay due by midnight on Friday.

  
  


Hope takes out her paper pad and sits on the floor. She thinks about going outside to paint, so she doesn’t ruin anything in the room, but chooses against doing so.

  
  


It’s really humid outside, anyhow.

  
  


She looks up the lake, looking on Google images to refresh her memory. She even clicks on the directions, remembering how it’s also only an hour or so away.

  
  


Maybe she’ll go.

  
  


She puts on her earbuds, her laptop and stuff sprawled out across the floor.

  
  


An hour later, she has a basic idea of what she wants to do. Josie comes to the dorm early and Hope misses her completely. It’s probably because she’s facing the wall, and Josie has an odd habit of _not_ opening the door wide. She couldn’t see the sunlight come in. That’s all.

  
  


The brunette gets Hope’s attention after a few seconds and Hope takes out her earbuds, closing her laptop and trying to hide her other stuff.

  
  


“What are you doing?” Josie asks, her voice deceptively casual as she sits down next to Hope and takes her papers out of her hand.

  
  


Hope stops trying to hide them, sighing deeply as she attempts to figure out what lame excuse she can use to have Josie stop paying attention to her. After a long moment of thinking, she can’t find a single one. 

  
  


“A project for my art class,” she decides to say, at last, basically handing Josie the rest of the papers. They’re all failed attempts of what Hope was trying to do.

  
  


“What’s your assignment on?” Josie starts to shuffle through the papers, landing on one that catches her interest. Hope peers over her shoulder to see what she’s looking at.

  
  


“Um, basically anything,” Hope explains, a little awkwardly, “we just have to pick a specific genre to paint.”

  
  


“So, you’re doing landscape?” Josie asks as she looks over the drawing, and Hope flushes insecurely as the girl looks over what Hope has done. Suddenly, she feels as though she is the worst artist in the world and Josie is some kind of famous judge. 

  
  


“Yeah. It’s a lake I used to go to a lot.” Hope stands up, putting her water cups and paint away. She swipes the paper out of Josie’s hand and looks over it thoughtfully. Josie pouts, but turns her attention away towards the other drawings nearby. “I’m having a hard time doing it, though.”

  
  


“Why?” Josie asks, looking as if she’s actually interested. She stands up, too, tidying up the rest of the papers and then handing them to Hope.

  
  


“Uh,” Hope swallows hard, some buried emotion welling up in her throat and forming a lump there. She tries not to tremble underneath Josie’s gaze, but the tips of her fingers twitch unbidden. “I’m having a hard time remembering...some stuff. I’ll probably end up driving out to it, though.”

  
  


Josie nods, but doesn’t say anything. Hope finds that odd. 

  
  


Would it be too fast to ask Josie to come with her?

  
  


Hope doesn’t think so.

  
  


It wouldn’t.

  
  


Silence.

  
  


She musters all the courage in the world.

  
  


“You can come with me,” Hope says after a long moment, wanting to appear nonchalant. She fails miserably and freezes, unsure, adding a second later, “If you want, I mean.”

  
  


Her eyes point to the ground, not exactly trying to gauge Josie’s reaction. Rejection isn’t great for a Mikaelson.

  
  


“Of course,” Josie tells her, a small smile on her lips that belies the fact that she’s nearly bubbling over in excitement. “When are you thinking of going?”

  
  


“Tomorrow or on the weekend,” she says, a subtle smile on her lips. She tries her best to keep it off her face. It won’t do well for Josie to think that she’s actually looking forward to hanging out with her or something. Hope’s pride can’t handle that. “You have work today, right?”

  
  


“Oh, shoot,” Josie looks around the room, checking the alarm clock for the time. “I have to get ready!” She disappears in the bathroom, coming out a minute later to leave for her job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was so fluffy imma gag...i tried to spell trying as triing :( i'm so tired byee thank u


	25. Chapter 25

Hope wakes up excited on Friday. Butterflies fly around her empty stomach, bouncing off of her walls anxiously, and she gets up to get ready for class. She feels very much like a child would before the first day of school or before a field trip.

  
  


She’s also anxious. It’s her first time going back to the lake since her parents had passed. She knows it won’t be that bad, but she doesn’t know how she’ll _really_ feel.

  
  


Nostalgia hasn’t been the best.

  
  


What _will_ she feel?

  
  


Will it be walking near the water? Or will it be walking near the water and seeing her father beside her, laughing about some dumb-ass joke he made which really _wasn’t_ funny.

  
  


Will it be sitting on the docks? Or will it be sitting on the docks and her father threatening to push her in, and then he does so, but a second later she comes up and he’s next to her. Also in the water.

  
  


Will that anxious, irritating feeling pull at her chest and make her regret even letting Josie come with her? Josie doesn’t deserve all this fucking baggage.

  
  


No.

  
  


No, _no_.

  
  


Hope hates that word. She regrets it from even entering her thoughts. Baggage.

  
  


She hates romantic love stories where it’s baggage, baggage, baggage.

  
  


Fuck that.

  
  


Hope sucks, and Josie just has to deal with it. Josie probably sucks, too.

  
Fuck baggage.

  
  


Hope can get through it. So what, if Hope comes across that _very_ uncomfortable feeling. So what, if Hope starts to drown in her thoughts. Drown in her _memories_.

  
  


Memories are very, very unreliable things. They come up at the wrong time. They never do the real moment any justice. They always leave Hope wanting more. Wanting to go back.

  
  


Memories are controlling. Elicited by words, actions, certain thoughts. Hope can never decide on it—does it give her trauma or does it provide her with something she’ll never have once again?

  
  


It’s a funny thing.

  
  


But, Hope _is_ happy to have Josie accompany her. She doesn’t know if this is considered a date or not. She hasn’t been too fixated on that particular thought.

  
  


Other things have been on her mind.

  
  


It really isn’t that important. Any time she gets to spend with Josie is perfect. She knows Josie likes her. She likes Josie. She could care less about the whole _date_ label.

  
  


She only has one class today, and it’s late in the morning. Hope turns to look at the other side of the room and finds that Josie isn’t there. It’s normal, though. Either Hope wakes up and Josie isn’t there, or Hope leaves before Josie wakes up.

  
  


They never get to talk early. Mornings aren’t really so kind to them.

  
  


But it doesn’t bother the auburn-haired girl.

  
  


Yesterday, she had even finished her whole essay that’s now due tonight. She turned it in, and she has no worries about schoolwork. Today, she can just worry about herself and tonight.

  
  


After her class, she reminds herself to go shop at the store for picnic food and other things. She plans to sit at the docks near the lake and hopefully Josie isn’t anxious near water. If she is, maybe they’ll just sit in the field.

  
  


It should be fine. It _will_ be fine.

  
  


She checks the weather. It’ll be cold tonight, but Hope finds herself preferring it. She should just buy a blanket or something that they can sit on.

  
  


She doesn’t really have one, and knows damn well that Josie probably doesn’t want to sit on her itchy-ugly-ass blanket. Like Hope said, she needs new _everythings_.

  
  


The blue-eyed girl heads to her class, and if there’s a skip in her step, she tries not to acknowledge it.

  
  


-

  
  


Hope cleans out her car after class, emptying the tons of utter shit in her front and back seats. She gets mad when she finds a piece of gum on one of the carpets. Hope doesn’t even chew gum.

  
  


She’ll definitely kill Maya for it later. Maya is the most annoying gum-chewer on the planet, and Hope bets _all_ of her fortune that it was the brunette.

  
  


She puts one of those little tree scents in her car, hoping it’ll restore the damage. Okay, Hope might be exaggerating. Her car isn’t even that bad.

  
  


It’s just...Josie has to have the best. She deserves the best, and Hope just has to clean her damn car. A part of her hopes to even impress Josie.

  
  


It’s a little materialistic of Hope, but the young—and quite pompous—girl can’t help but think about it. She obviously gets it from her father. She knows this isn’t the way to Josie’s heart, but she yearns deeply just to impress the girl.

  
  


She kind of wonders if she can take it to a dealership and get it detailed real quick. It’s already the afternoon, so that’s a no.

  
  


Hope fixes everything, throws away the rag she was using, and heads back to her dorm. She takes a shower, glad to see Josie is nowhere in sight. Hope feels stinky and utterly disgusting.

  
  


She’s never cleaned anything before. Not really.

  
  


After, the blue-eyed girl runs to the store quickly. She grabs stuff they’ll need—food, drinks, plastic silverware, napkins, and even a basket to put everything in.

  
  


Buying all of the stuff makes her kind of nervous, because she doesn’t want to weird out Josie. And Hope definitely doesn’t want to be typical. Buying the basket made her kind of cringe. 

  
  


It all takes her over an hour, and then she’s heading back to the dorm again.

  
  


Right before she arrives near the dorm hall, she gets a message. It beeps absurdly in her pocket, and some people even tilt their heads her way.

  
  


Why is her phone always so damn loud?

  
  


She takes it out, looking at the text.

  
  


**Josie’s in my room. What are you two doing tonight?**

  
  


It’s from Maya, if the nosy subtext is of any indication.

  
  


Hope’s face bundles up in confusion. Why would Josie be there?

  
  


Hope continues to her room, her pace quickening. She needs to get ready.

  
  


_nothing. why is she there?_

  
  


She texts back before throwing her phone on her bed. She looks at her closet, her eyes glancing back and forth between outfits. Shit. She doesn’t know what to wear.

  
  


It doesn’t help that her closet looks like a mess.

  
  


Hope stops after a long twenty minutes of trying on stuff over and over again. She goes back to her phone, seeing Maya’s text from half an hour ago.

  
  


**she’s getting ready to go out somewhere. I'm guessing with you? But then I remembered…you don’t have the balls to do anything, much less ask the girl**

  
  


Hope rolls her eyes, able to see Maya’s smirk through the phone.

  
  


_fuck you_

  
  


The auburn-haired girl doesn’t say anything else. The text makes her think, though. If Josie’s taking time to get ready, then Hope definitely can’t look like a walking cockroach or something.

  
  


Also, does that mean that Maya knows Penelope and the brunette aren’t really dating? It all makes her so confused, and none of it actually makes sense. She knows Josie and Maya have talked plenty of times before, but she doesn’t know if they’re close or not.

  
  


Hope puts on her new pair of ripped jeans, some low-top shoes, matched with a top. She packs a bag with some stuff, remembering to bring sweatshirts since it’ll most definitely get cold.

  
  


She gets everything together, making sure nothing is forgotten, and with a small bout of confidence, texts Maya.

  
  


_tell her to come back_

  
  


She regrets it almost immediately, but doesn’t know how else she would’ve let her roommate know. Hope recognizes Josie’s phone on the nightstand, and kind of wonders why the girl left it there if she went out to Maya and Penelope’s room.

  
  


It’s charging and Hope guesses it’s probably just about dead or something.

  
  


**I knew it!**

  
  


Hope rolls her eyes. Then a minute later, another message comes.

  
  


**She’s coming.**

  
  


-

  
  


“Can I drive?” Josie asks, looking excited as a child begging for candy. She rocks back and forth, standing oddly close to Hope. The blue-eyed girl tries not to blush at their closeness. She likes it. A lot. She thinks that Josie is getting more comfortable with her.

  
  


Hope stands next to the driver’s seat door, stopping Josie from getting to the car handle. She’ll slip inside easily enough if Hope gives her the chance. Plus, she might even let the girl in herself. Josie looks adorable, the pout of her lips deepening to match her plea.

  
  


“No,” Hope sighs, a slight smile on her face. The brunette in front of her looks irritated, and Hope puts a hand on the girl’s shoulder, teasing and feigning comfort, “You suck at driving.”

  
  


Josie’s pout deepens further.

  
  


Hope pauses, taking one last, longing look at her vehicle, “And, I love my car.”

  
  


She did really good with cleaning it. Surprisingly good. After the first thirty minutes of cleaning, she almost caved in to call Sebastian. But somehow, she managed.

  
  


Sebastian is _known_ for his work with cars. It’s simple.

  
  


“Wait, what? I don’t,” Josie frowns, making her way back to the passenger side. She even tries one last attempt at snagging Hope’s keys, but fails. Hope stays in her spot until the girl goes away.

  
  


“Last time we were in a car together,” Hope starts, “you almost ran over two curbs.”

  
  


Hope remembers when Josie had dragged her along to the coffee shop. Hope had acted like she didn’t see it during the drive, but now it’s almost too hard of a pass to bring up. Josie is low-key a really, really bad driver.

  
  


“See? Almost. But I didn’t,” Josie explains, acting shocked at Hope’s allegation. The brown-haired girl shakes her head, opening the door and getting inside.

  
  


Hope gets in as well. “Still.”

  
  


“Didn’t you want to paint?” Josie asks, ten seconds into their drive. Hope hasn’t even pulled out of the campus parking lot yet. “Where’s all of your stuff?”

  
  


“I put everything in the trunk,” Hope smiles. She tries not to tear her attention away from the road, but finds it hard when Josie’s next to her, looking so interested and stunning. “Did you want me to pull over to look or am I good to keep going?”

  
  


“You’re so irritating,” Josie looks away from the blue-eyed girl, turning her attention to something outside the window. Hope thinks she’s really upset, but catches the small hint of a smile along her face.

  
  


“I brought stuff for you to use, too,” Hope says after a long moment of silence. She debates turning the radio on, or giving Josie the aux cord. “If you want.”

  
  


Josie laughs, “I’m not good at painting. Or anything that has to do with art, actually.”

  
  


Her response isn’t a straight out _no_ , though.

  
  


“It doesn’t matter,” Hope tries. She can feel Josie’s eyes on her and decides that Josie looking out the window was _definitely_ the best thing for them. Now she just feels a strong urge to look back. She laughs, “Paint anything you want. I just didn’t want to do it by myself.”

  
  


“Well, I was planning only to watch you,” Josie says, serious _and_ playful. Josie’s left hand is sprayed out across the center console between them. It looks like it wants to be held, and Hope has an idea to do just so.

  
  


But, that’d be dangerous.

  
  


Two hands on the wheel, she reminds herself.

  
  


Two hands on the wheel.

  
  


“I don’t think that’d be much fun,” she murmurs distractedly. Her hands carry a heavy grip on the wheel, her right hand itching towards Josie’s own.

  
  


They enter onto the highway, driving east. Hope knows it’ll probably be an hour by the time they arrive, even with no traffic. She kind of expected more of a traffic jam on a late Friday afternoon.

  
  


Right as Hope gets the courage to move her hand slightly, Josie moves hers back into her lap. She plays with her fingers there, twitching a little noticeably. “I can’t imagine anything better.”

  
  


Hope tries not to grin, but it’s unbelievably hard. She looks off into the distance, trying to think of something to tease Josie about. She comes up blank, so she changes the subject before she can continue feeling so vulnerable. Hope isn’t very good at flirting back.

  
  


“How’s your work going?” Hope casts a quick glance to her right, finding Josie getting more comfortable in the seat. She changes her seat position with the side buttons, inspecting the car.

  
  


It kind of makes Hope a little nervous.

  
  


“Pretty good, I have most of next week off,” Hope’s roommate says. Josie relaxes into her seat, “So, I’m pretty happy about that.”

  
  


She then goes on to tell Hope several different stories. All of which had happened at her workplace—her coworker breaking the coffee grinder, Josie herself training a new person, someone leaving the refrigerator slightly open so that all the milk went bad.

  
  


Josie had said it wasn’t her. Hope knows it probably _was_ her.

  
  


“So how long has it been since you’ve gone down here?” Josie asks suddenly, the once playful tone in her voice now absent. The words don’t register in Hope’s ears at first. The sun is setting now, darkness engulfing the view around them.

  
  


Hope is now off the freeway, headed down the road with help from the signs along the route.

  
  


“Hope?” Josie tries again. 

  
  


“Oh,” Hope blinks, the fog that had been clouding her eyes now clearing. She really needs to stop zoning out like this. “Uh...It’s been a long time.”

  
  


Her voice sounds rough even to her own ears. Does she say more? Does she open up?

  
  


Does she talk about _it_?

  
A brief spike of courage strikes her, enough for her to open her mouth, but not enough for it to last. 

  
  


“Not since…” Hope says, but cuts herself off. Her eyes darken, pupils dilating even as they unfocus. She exhales a short, shaky breath, swears she can see her hands trembling just barely on the steering wheel, swears Josie can see it, too. “It’s just been a long time.”

  
  


She swallows, trying to gather the ability to remain stoic.

  
  


Josie’s hand reaches out in the corner of Hope’s eye. The auburn-haired girl watches, almost as if she is on the outside in, as the hand draws closer to her own. In a moment of bravery, or weakness, Josie’s pinky brushes softly against the skin of Hope’s knuckles. In the same moment, Hope feels her heart seize up in her chest, feels it finally relax all the same. 

  
  


Josie’s hand overlaps hers for almost a second, her roommate reaching over the console. Then it’s gone—as if it wasn’t ever there in the first place.

  
  


It’s enough to comfort Hope, a single touch she never knew she needed so much.

  
  


-

  
  


Hope parks where her and her father always had stopped, which was the left side of the lake.

  
  


They then pull up the trunk, getting everything out of it.

  
  


“What’s all of this stuff?” Josie asks, picking up the woven basket. Hope cringes again, just looking at it. This really looks like a picnic date. She picks up her backpack—the one with all of the art materials—and another bag.

  
  


She closes the trunk, and then locks the car.

  
  


“Food,” Hope answers, “...I was planning on letting you starve, but thought better of it.”

  
  


Josie rolls her eyes obviously at the girl, dragging her lip in between her teeth while she carries the basket. The action makes Hope realize that they haven’t kissed in a _long_ time.

  
  


Well, maybe only a day. But still.

  
  


Hope teases further, trying not to smile so much at the image of Josie struggling in front of her, “Is that too heavy for you?”

  
  


“You suck,” Josie spits out—an insult of a middle schooler. Hope is sure that the basket had been light when she was carrying it earlier.

  
  


Hope laughs and it seems to anger Josie more.

  
  


The brown-eyed girl readjusts herself and then the two head over to a part of the lake, Hope leading them. It’s getting dark, but Hope is glad for the lampposts on the side. Also, the boat rentals are still open so light is also coming from the shack.

  
  


Or else this would be very scary.

  
  


She leads them to one of the only two dock areas and puts down a blanket, settling the stuff down. Her and her dad would always go to this side, because the sun would set right in front of them.

  
  


It afforded them the best view possible. Why didn’t they ever take pictures?

  
  


“Comfortable?” She asks Josie once they’ve sat down, wanting to actually know and make sure. Wooden splinters aren’t that nice.

  
  


Josie nods, smiling at her dazedly. The sun hits the brown-haired girl’s face in a red-bidden way, painting her cheeks and features colorfully. It’s refreshing to look at—how the girl shines so effortlessly.

  
  


Josie’s appearance reminds Hope of summer—soft and sweet. Oddly, Josie almost looks like a lamp. Her skin is tan, but her face is lit up in a way that’s unforgiving to Hope’s eyes. Golden.

  
  


Josie lays down, looking up at the sky. It provides Hope with the chance to look at her. To not be scared that she’ll be caught. Is getting caught so bad?

  
  


“Stop staring,” Hope hears after a long moment, silence drifting between them just before.

  
  


“I’m not,” the blue-eyed girl lies, a lazy smile stretching the tips of her mouths up. She gets her materials out of her bag, tossing out everything. She takes out her paints and her paper pad, tearing a sheet for Josie, “Here.”

  
  


She didn’t bother with canvases today.

  
  


She sets out plates for the paints as Josie watches. “So how am I supposed to wash the brushes off?”

  
  


“You don’t have to,” Hope says, “I bought a lot of cheap brushes so we can just throw them away.” She dumps them out, handing them to Josie to use. She fails to see Josie’s growing frown.

  
  


“Throw them away?” Josie furrows her eyebrows, examining the paintbrushes in her hand. “Can’t we just, I don’t know, take them home and clean them?”

  
  


Crap. Hope is guessing she struck a nerve or something. Hope tries not to sound like she just throws away shit and doesn’t care about money. She tries to take it back, “That’s what I meant.”

  
  


Josie grins, knowing better. “Sure.”

  
  


Hope feels her face flush, and looks off into the distance to try to stop feeling so flustered.

  
  


Unknowingly, Josie has already started painting. Hope can’t really see what, since the girl is hiding it from her. Josie sighs after ten minutes, “All the colors look like black to me.”

  
  


Oh, shit. Hope remembers now. Earlier, at the store, she bought a little portable lamp light because she knew it would get dark. She takes it out, turning it on, hoping it appeases Josie’s frustration.

  
  


The area around them lights up immediately.

  
  


“You think of everything, don’t you?” Josie smirks, emphasizing down to all the stuff on the blanket.

  
  


“Well, I have to.” Hope says. She grins, trying to steal a look at Josie’s paper, “Especially when you complain so damn much.”

  
  


Hope looks down at her own paper pad—she hasn’t even started yet.

  
  


Trees surround them, all the way around the lake. The lake is almost a stadium, the trees creating a bubble around the water, allowing for privacy. It’s a very secluded area, isolated from the busy city.

  
  


Hope glances at the lake. The sun has almost fully set, the sky turning a weird red-pinkish color. It looks like a dream, like the world has set afire but the destruction is pretty. It sets her nerves on fire and calms them all at once. 

  
  


Weird.

  
  


She scooches over to the edge of the docks, setting her legs over the brim of the wood. This is what her father and her would always do. She can picture it perfectly. Him right next to her, dangling his long legs, just about skimming the water. 

  
  


She looks back and finds that Josie is watching her, looking at Hope with the subtlety of a thousand pairs of eyes. Hope smiles, completely fascinated by Josie’s brown ones. They light up so easily. The young Mikaelson loves it.

  
  


Throughout all the mixed emotions and the unsure feelings between the two, Josie’s eyes have always been her favorite facet. It’s a certainty Hope hasn’t felt for years.

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“This place is important to you,” Josie says softly—so softly that the noisy nature of the lake bends just to fit the words in, just to hear it. It’s not a question. 

  
  


“Yeah,” Hope looks away, turning her attention back towards the sunset. She inhales the air around her, hoping her chest won’t cave in. “It is.”

  
  


-

  
  


“I’m done!” Josie calls out, looking at her painting proudly. She hands Hope the paper and the brown-haired girl’s smiles, looking at Hope for approval. 

  
  


Hope takes it from her hands, excited to see what Josie has been hiding.

  
  


“Who’s that?” Hope instantly asks, her expression knotted in half-confusion, half-amusement. The painting is a messy collection of swabs of paint and mistakes. Hope is just about ready to call it...abstract?

  
  


She checks Josie’s hand—they’re almost completely covered in paint.

  
  


“It’s you!” Josie puts a hand to her chest, in disbelief that Hope couldn’t guess it on the first try. The disappointment sucks up the girl’s face like none other.

  
  


“That doesn’t look anything like me,” Hope deadpans, despite the way her outsides fold inward at how Josie can make her completely swoon. She looks at the painting again.

  
  


Her heart swoons again.

  
  


“See...I told you I sucked,” Josie infamously pouts, drawing her hands over her face in embarrassment. She then points an accusing finger at Hope, blaming her. “Now you’re just making me feel bad.”

  
  


Hope shakes her head, smiling. Josie moves to hit her—much like she always does—but Hope catches the girl’s hand in mid-air, drawing Josie closer. 

  
  


It gives Hope the wonderful opportunity to kiss her. It’s light and soft, purely one mouth on another. The brown-haired girl smiles into it, her sour mood no more. Hope deepens the kiss.

  
  


-

  
  


They start to eat, Hope getting everything she purchased from the store out of the basket.

  
  


“I need to wash my hands off,” Josie says, looking directly at Hope’s water bottle. Hope takes it out of Josie’s eye-line.

  
  


“Just dip your hands in the lake water,” Hope shrugs, she herself is not particularly dirty with paint. Josie sends a glare her way, but the blue-eyed girl doesn’t falter. “I’m serious.”

  
  


“—I can even give you a little push.”

  
  


“Don’t even start,” Josie takes one of the napkins, desperately trying to rub everything off. It’s kind of useless because now all of the paint on her hands is dry. So it doesn’t matter. “Fuck.”

  
  


Everything Josie does is so amusing. It’s hilarious.

  
  


“Fuck,” Hope mocks her, which is probably the really, _really_ wrong thing to do.

  
  


“Do that again,” Josie shakes her head, dipping her napkin into the water. Hope knows not to push her in. The brown-haired girl rubs at her hands again, “I dare you.”

  
  


“Do that again,” Hope pitches highly, “I dare you.”

  
  


She finds it very funny.

  
  


Josie not so much.

  
  


The girl in front of Hope turns viciously to look at her, dropping the napkin in her hand. For a second, Hope thinks she’s about to be pushed in the water.

  
  


But then, Josie grabs one of Hope’s paint bottles, opening it. She points it at Hope, like a gun, with a cruel and relentless look on her face.

  
  


Hope becomes panicked right away, the effect taking a mere second. “No, wait. I’m sorry.”

  
  


“Please, no,” Hope says, putting her hands in front of her body, like a hostage negotiator would do. She tries to reason, “How are we going to eat if we’re both covered with p—”

  
  


Just like that, Hope is splattered with red paint. It goes on for ten very long seconds until Josie drops the empty bottle. Josie even bothers to examine the bottle in front of Hope’s eyes—making sure everything in the bottle is gone, checking to know it’s empty.

  
  


Josie’s laughter is the first thing Hope hears when she starts to wipe at the paint on her chest, getting it on her hands and under her fingernails. She sighs, wet and uncomfortable. _And_ it’s getting cold.

  
  


Josie drops the bottle in the bag where the paintbrushes are, calmly fixing everything while Hope just sits there.

  
  


Hope can’t go anywhere like this. Especially not in her car and especially not back to campus. Jumping into the water is definitely not a good option.

  
  


“What am I supposed to do now?” Hope frowns, thinking about getting every single one of her paint bottles and emptying it over Josie’s body.

  
  


“You brought this on yourself,” Josie shrugs, looking happy and fully satisfied with herself. The paint that was on her hands is now gone. She pauses for a second, taking Hope’s appearance in. Josie looks like she’s trying hard not to crack another smile.

  
  


Josie hands Hope a _single_ napkin for the damage, “Here.”

  
  


Hope throws her a look, not bothering to take it. It would be insulting.

  
  


The brown-eyed girl stands up, “Fine. Maybe we can check if there are showers or a hose. They might even have towels at the rental house.”

  
  


Josie points at the information booth near the other side of the lake. The lights are still on, so it gives the auburn-haired girl with some hope.

  
  


Josie offers Hope a hand, and Hope takes it, standing up as well. She even drags some of the paint on her body onto Josie.

  
  


“Aww, you look like a grumpy tomato,” Josie turns back, putting a hand on Hope’s shoulder. It’s worse than getting your cheeks pinched like a child. So _not_ adorable.

  
  


“Screw you,” Hope says, still flickering some paint on Josie.

  
  


“Have you ever been inside?” Josie asks once they get close enough. Some cars are parked outside, probably the employees.

  
  


“No, actually,” Hope says. Her father and her had always just stayed on land, never needing to go onto the water. Hope’s dad said it was safer. She always just accepted what he said.

  
  


If he had said it with a stern face, then it was always _Yes_.

  
  


“Hmm,” Josie nods, as they walk step-by-step together.

  
  


They get to the little shack and Hope waits outside, not wanting to walk in with a bunch of paint all over her and drag it onto the tiles. From what Hope can see from the windows, inside looks really cozy but elegant at the same time.

  
  


Josie comes back ten minutes later with two towels and some information.

  
  


“What took you so long?” Hope pouts, “It was cold.”

  
  


She low-key does it to make Josie feel guilty.

  
  


“They don’t even have towels!” Josie whisper-shouts, grabbing Hope’s hand and pulling the both of them out of view from the windows. “I had to steal these from the bathroom...”

  
  


“You did what?!”

  
  


“And then I had to hide them under my shirt _and_ walk backwards,” Josie shakes her head, irritated. They walk to the side of the little hut, Hope following Josie. “Those people are so _rude_.”

  
  


“You can’t just steal towels,” Hope puts a hand to her head, feeling like a criminal.

  
  


“Do you want them or not?” Josie puts a hand on her hip, tapping her foot impatiently. She starts to mumble words, “Those old dudes had _no_ manners. I don’t even know why they’re working here. No. I don’t know why they’re working at _all_.”

  
  


Hope starts to take one of the towels from her, but then Josie stops her, as if remembering something. “Oh, wait. They told me there was a hose at the back we could use.”

  
  


Hope wants to fucking die.

  
  


“You’re gonna spray me with a freaking hose?”

  
  


“You can spray me, too, if you want,” Josie’s tone turns a little sultry and she winks, a smile on her face. Hope doesn’t find it entertaining. The blue-eyed girl crosses her arms in front of her chest, handing Josie the towel back.

  
  


“That doesn’t make me feel better,” she frowns again, looking to the ground awkwardly.

  
  


Josie drags her to the back and it takes her a long time to actually turn on the hose. Hope didn’t know turning a knob can be so hard. It’s so rusty and old. Has this been used? Ever?

  
  


Josie grabs the hose from her and says, “Sorry if it’s cold.” 

  
  


She’s not apologetic whatsoever, but starts to spray Hope down.

  
  


The water is _very_ cold.

  
  


Hope feels like a child who runs in the backyard while their parent sprays them with the hose since there’s no pool. Although Hope hasn’t ever experienced it for herself, Sam has _really_ good stories.

  
  


“Are you done yet?” Hope asks three minutes later. She’s sure Josie is only spraying her for fun now. All of Hope’s clothes are soaked and she only brought a change of sweatpants and a sweatshirt.

  
  


Josie nods, dropping the nose, and turning off the faucet. They both don’t have any paint on them anymore, and Hope puts a towel over Josie’s shoulders before putting one for herself.

  
  


They walk back and Hope’s glad to see no one stole their stuff.

  
  


She slips out of her jeans and shirt, putting her sweatpants and sweatshirt on when Josie isn’t looking. She dries her hair with her already wet towel, and then ties her hair into a bun.

  
  


Hope offers Josie the other sweatshirt she brought, “I have another one if you need it.”

  
  


Josie looks adorable with her hair wet and sprayed out messily across her face. She smiles widely at Hope, something that Hope’s eyes don’t miss, “Thank you.”

  
  


She allows Josie to look through the basket and all of the food, simply just watching and appreciating her being so close.

  
  


Hope can’t stop the way her heart pounds so adamantly in her chest, she can’t stop the way her eyes always itch towards the taller girl. She doesn’t know why she was so anxious about all of this in the first place.

  
  


It’s clearer than ever now. It’s clearer than the shift change from when the sun sets and the moon comes. It’s clearer than the way mountains move every so often. It’s clearer than the clouds in the sky, the green of the grass.

  
  


Josie makes her feel normal. Josie makes it easy.

  
  


Today was supposed to be hard. It wasn’t in the slightest.

  
  


Hope even bothers to sneak a picture, not wanting to regret _not_ doing so.

  
  


“You’re not going to eat?” Josie asks, making it known that Hope’s probably been staring for too long. Her mouth is full of strawberries, and she’s making a weirdly-cute face.

  
  


“I will,” Hope confirms, sitting closer to the girl. She grabs a small sandwich from one of the compartments and starts to eat it.

  
  


Soon enough, insects start to accompany them. Hope turns off the lamp light so they won’t attract anymore, and then they head off into the direction of the car. They pack everything back in.

  
  


The car ride back home is silent, as Hope can tell that Josie is tired.

  
  


Most of Josie’s body is leaning over near Hope’s side, sort of slouched over, and Hope wonders if the girl is about to fall asleep. Her left hand is sprayed out near the car’s gear stick.

  
  


Again.

  
  


This time, Hope inches her hand closer to Josie’s, thinking that perhaps the space between them can allow her the courage to connect their hands. Usually, they only hold hands when they kiss or drag each other along somewhere.

  
  


Josie’s hand moves towards her slightly, giving Hope the go-ahead to intertwine their hands. She drives slowly, as it’s dark, and feels content to have Josie at her side.

  
  


Her roommate rubs circles gently on Hope’s hand for half an hour until the brown-haired girl soon falls asleep. Hope hasn’t ever experienced such affection with anyone else in her life. It lights her up inside, filling her with warmth and a flame that’s never been so bright.

  
  


That’s never been lighted.

  
  


Half of Hope is still in disbelief with how much they’re hanging out, how much they’re growing. It feels like a different reality—a different universe—one where things can happen and things _do_ happen.

  
  


She can’t believe how close they are now. It’s so weird how things change so quickly.

  
  


Or how some things don’t change at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dw this story is still up and running, i just got called into work and worked 4 back-to-back 8-5 days :( and so i just got busy. also i celebrated my bday and i had some family stuff to do. i'm really sorry :( i thought i would have plenty of time but kept getting caught up w stuff. thanks for caring, love yallll


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the first page of my dreambook  
> It's always evening  
> In an occupied country,  
> Hour before the curfew.  
> I am on a street corner  
> Where I shouldn't be.  
> Alone and coatless  
> -The Empire of Dreams, Charles Simic

_“Hope, you need to focus,” Hope’s father says, pushing a pair of glasses her way. Hope thinks it’s weird. She doesn’t even wear glasses. There’s a smile on his face but his tone is strict. She needs to stop messing around, she needs to finish her homework._

  
  


_She picks up her pencil, turning a page of the textbook. “Dad, I don’t understand any of this.”_

  
  


_Hope turns another page, but the questions on the next page still aren’t easier. She sighs, feeling tears start to well up. Why is this so hard? They’re supposed to be watching the basketball game. It’s late._

  
  


_“Here, let me see,” he grabs her textbook, pulling it closer to his stomach. They’re sitting at a table, but Hope doesn’t recognize it. No. She doesn’t recognize any of her surroundings. His thumbs tap the corners of the pages, and the sound hammers in her ears._

  
  


_She feels claustrophobic all of a sudden. Where is she? Where are they?_

  
  


_“Honey, I actually don’t understand any of this,” he laughs, but it isn’t his laugh. It isn’t his laugh at all. Where exactly is Hope? He closes the book, putting a hand on Hope’s shoulder, “Maybe we should get your mom.”_

  
  


_His touch feels like a burn, and Hope backs away, absolutely scorched. The air around them turns sour, turns suffocating. She swears her throat even closes up. Her dad immediately pulls back, “What’s wrong?”_

  
  


_“I don’t know,” she gulps, searching for the distinct features of his face_ _—his_ _lips that always seem red, his light beard, the area around his eyes that crinkle. She doesn’t recognize any of it. This isn’t her father. She stands up, a frown heavy on her face and in her voice, “Who are you?”_

  
  


_The man in front of her only smiles. He then disappears, right in front of her. She had only blinked once. The room they were in disappears. She is now in a box. A dark box. She steps in one direction and after ten minutes, she realizes she doesn’t know where she’s going._

  
  


_Hope stops. She starts to cry, tears flowing down her face like a waterfall. It’s harsh. She doesn’t feel so good. “Dad? Mom? Where are you guys?”_

  
  


_She yells and yells, but no one responds. All she can hear is silence. No, it isn’t silence. It’s a harsh pounding sound coming from all different directions. It’s the squawking of a dozen crows, it’s the buzzing of thousands of insects. She thinks it’ll never end._

  
  


_“Please!” She screams, hoping to be saved. She can’t see anything. Darkness only accompanies her. The only light comes from her skin, so pale...so weak._

  
  


_“Mom, Dad,” she begs. Her knees drop to the floor, her body not hers. “Don’t leave me.”_

  
  


_Her hands touch the ground, but it feels slippery and wet. She can’t open her eyes. She doesn’t even want to look at what’s on them. Is she imagining this? Maybe her hands aren’t wet._

  
  


_She tries again, calling out for her parents. Again, no one answers. She thinks she’ll never be saved. Her heart starts to pound and her throat tightens up once more with that familiar feeling. She suddenly finds it difficult to swallow. Difficult to breathe. Difficult to even think. She’s about to sob. Completely sob._

  
  


_Her words start to mumble, she can’t even understand her own sentences. “I c-can’t do this without you. Please. Stop. Stop. S-stop. Just_ _—”_

  
  


_Panic builds in her bones. She needs to calm down. The auburn-haired girl takes a deep breath, hoping her parents will hear this one phrase especially._

  
  


_“—Just come back.”_

  
  


“Hope? Hope, wake up.”

  
  


Someone starts to shake Hope and she bounces up quickly, feeling scared. She blinks her eyes open. Josie is right next to her, holding her up. Her hands on Hope’s back instantly feel comforting. One hand lies on the top of her neck and it’s cold. Josie’s hands are cold, but it feels nice.

  
  


It feels so good.

  
  


Hope’s body is doused in sweat and she turns away from Josie. She doesn’t want the girl to see her like this—in such a mess. She rubs at her eyes and almost throws off her shirt. It’s so hot in here. “What happened?”

  
  


Hope can’t remember anything. No. Absolutely nothing is on her mind. It’ll probably come back to her in minutes. It’ll _surely_ come back to her in minutes. She lies back down, looking at the ceiling. She takes a deep breath and feels deja vu.

  
  


“I think—I think you were dreaming,” Josie sighs. Hope instantly hopes that she didn’t wake the girl up. Hope looks at the clock on the bedside. It’s almost two in the morning. Crap. Josie’s probably awake because of her.

  
  


Hope realizes that it isn’t just sweat on her face. Her face is soaked. Was she crying? Her throat feels sore and her chest so, so heavy. She pulls the blanket off of her, turning closer to the wall—further away from Josie.

  
  


The brown-eyed girl doesn’t let her escape. She only moves closer, sitting completely on Hope’s bed. “Are you okay?” She asks, her voice sincere in a way that makes Hope ache. Genuine in a way that makes Hope’s anguish disappear partly.

  
  


Her voice is also groggy, and Hope hates herself for pulling the girl out of sleep. It’s early Saturday morning and she forgets if Josie has work or not. She’s sure that the girl had told her whether or not, but now it’s hard to remember. Her mind is blank.

  
  


“I’m fine,” Hope shuts down, even meeting Josie’s eyes to try to convince her so. It doesn’t convince her roommate whatsoever. The room is dark, but Hope’s lamp is lit. Hope guesses that it’s Josie’s doing.

  
  


“You aren’t,” Josie shakes her head, scratching her neck. She stretches to the side and Hope feels even worse. She debates asking Josie if she would want a massage. Hope would give it to her in seconds. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  
  


Josie is careful, and Hope recognizes the girl’s tone. Her and Josie aren’t very close. They don’t know a lot about each other, only sharing one thing—their secret affair. If anyone can even call it that.

  
  


They’ve been intimate in different ways—kissing, arguing, talking about their feelings—but they have also never talked about other stuff. Like things outside of them. Hope knows about Josie’s situation with her family. But they haven’t ever talked about Hope pointedly. Not about the important aspect of her own family life.

  
  


She assumes that Josie knows about her parents. It was on the news for forever. Her parents were quite famous. They could even be called celebrities. Hope’s parents were known for more than just the company. They participated in several different organizations, even becoming involved in production studios and charity systems.

  
  


Hope was always along for the ride, leaving school whenever she’d get the chance. She always had loved joining them on their little plane trips, or accompanying them to different meetings.

  
  


So, Hope should probably talk about. She pauses, trying to think of the right thing to say. The right way to word what she’s feeling. Should she talk about her nightmares? She hadn’t had one in so long. She didn’t think Josie herself would ever witness one of them.

  
  


Hope had been put on medication for them. The first few weeks after her parents’ death, her nightmares became bad. Vividly bad. She could barely take a ten-minute nap without dreaming and waking up in sweat.

  
  


It got to the point where she constantly couldn’t sleep. She became too scared to close her eyes, too scared to be lulled into a nightmare.

  
  


She confided in Maya about it. Her friend went straight to her uncle, Elijah. It was probably the best thing to do during that time, though. Hope never gets upset at Maya for it. Never.

  
  


Maya had helped her. Did what Hope couldn’t ever do—get help.

  
  


Maya is a friend of a lifetime. Hope won’t ever try to ruin it.

  
  


Her head spins, trying to think of something to tell Josie.

  
  


She’s glad that Josie never brings it up directly. She appreciates the brunette for it. Josie knows not to push it or say anything. She’s respectful in that regard. She never asks questions, she respects Hope’s time. 

  
  


Hope’s parents have never come up during any of their conversations, and it’s never been used as a retort or an insult. Josie has never dragged their names through the mud, has never tried to purposefully hurt Hope with it.

  
  


Not like Hope has done. Hope has used Josie’s past as an insult before. She regrets it, horribly. She thinks to apologize, right now, but she doesn’t want to bring it up out of nowhere. She doesn’t want to hurt Josie again.

  
  


“Maybe later,” Hope finally decides to say, wanting to make sure Josie gets some sleep and that they both can go to bed. This isn’t a conversation for a minute’s time. It isn’t. Josie nods and she looks tired, Hope can see it from the slight light in the room.

  
  


Her eyes droop slightly down, her forehead wrinkled partially. She gets up to return back to her own bed and Hope finally sits up and pulls herself together. The blue-eyed girl stops Josie, effectively placing a hand on the girl’s waist, “Stay.”

  
  


Hope almost regrets it. She thinks asking Josie to stay is a little much, a little too intimate. They usually sleep a bed’s length apart and she laughs at the thought of how they’ve managed to avoid each other’s spaces entirely. So, so weird.

  
  


Josie nods, not arguing about it. She lies down a few inches away from Hope, almost falling off of the bed. Hope wants to tell her not to care about touching. Hope doesn’t mind it. Hope doesn’t need any more space. She doesn’t want space anymore.

  
  


“Why are you so far away?” Hope mumbles, trying to get Josie to come closer. Hope doesn’t like that about herself—how she’s always so indecisive about what she wants. One moment Hope only wants to feel Josie, the next she doesn't want to bother her. It’s really not healthy.

  
  


She’s seconds away from completely pulling the girl towards her. But, Hope isn’t exactly noted for cuddling. Correction: Hope hasn’t ever cuddled with anyone romantically. Cuddling with Maya is the only exception, though the girl usually suffocates Hope and basically sits on top of her.

  
  


Hope wouldn’t call it cuddling.

  
  


But now, in this moment, Hope only wants Josie close. She only wants to be near the girl, she doesn’t care if they don’t cuddle or touch.

  
  


“I’m comfortable here, though,” her roommate whispers, and Hope can hear the pout even though she can’t see the girl. Hope sighs, deflating back into the mattress. It’s kind of nice, kind of comfortable to lie down next to someone—especially if that someone is a person one likes and has extreme, extreme, _extreme_ feelings for.

  
  


Hope thinks she’s serious, but a second later Josie rolls over just a bit, adequately closing the distance between them down to two inches. “I was kidding,” she teases and Hope props her elbow up to look at the girl. Josie’s eyelids are shut, her face turned up towards the ceiling.

  
  


The way she relaxes so easily allows Hope to also calm down. She nearly forgets about why they’re here—sharing a bed—in the first place.

  
  


Hope finally loosens up, shutting her eyes and falling back onto the sheets. The bed is colder now, and Hope enjoys it more than if Josie would’ve melted it. She needed this. The breeze that Josie always seems to offer. It’s definitely great right now, when Hope is still sort of sweating.

  
  


She hopes that she doesn’t smell. Especially when Josie is so close to her. Maybe she can take a shower right now? But then again, she doesn’t want to get up. No, she doesn’t want to tear herself away from Josie at all. It would be foolish to.

  
  


It would be taking away...Hope might call it happiness. Euphoria, maybe?

  
  


Hope feels like she’s two seconds away from falling asleep, her eyelids flutter without wanting so. She blinks, in and out of consciousness. She’s not ready to slip away completely. She just wants to cherish this. She wants to entirely ignore the idea that Josie won’t be hers in the morning.

  
  


That they’ll have to continue to pretend.

  
  


Is that so wrong?

  
  


Hope can’t thoroughly acknowledge why she feels so comforted. Her and Josie aren’t even touching. Sure, their hips bump into each other every minute or so. Sure, their arms scratch each other every few seconds.

  
  


It’s ecstasy, a feeling close to _home_ , right underneath Hope’s body, tingling the mattress with the ferocity of the sun and winding Hope with the power of a tornado. The slight inch between the two doesn’t even exist to Hope, not with the calmness—the peace—that enraptures her mind.

  
  


The tears that had once scolded her skin are now elsewhere. Intimacy means elsewhere.

  
  


She thinks Josie has fallen asleep, but suddenly the brown-eyed girl gets up. She turns off the lamp and then moves back down, falling into a similar position as before. But this time, she places her head on Hope’s shoulder, using it as a pillow.

  
  


Hope’s heart beats resoundingly in her chest at the gesture, falling to a flat pace. Hope falls asleep peacefully within a minute. She awakes all the same—her nightmare no more.

-

  
  


Saturday passes, and on Sunday afternoon Hope spends her time at her desk, working on some of her core classes’ homework. She really needs to catch up. She’s getting distracted by Josie, all the time, and has started to fall a little behind with completing stuff.

  
  


She always makes the due date, though, so it isn’t that big of a problem. Yet. College has been hard. She had thought the first year wouldn’t be so bad, but her mind is filled with anxiety the second she walks into class and the second she finishes her day.

  
  


It’s a lot to take in. All of the time. Maya agrees with her, too, so she knows she isn’t alone. On campus, there are events going on continuously. Presentations for the freshmen and sophomores to attend, quad activities, different check-ins. Hope personally hasn’t done anything. She hasn’t been involved.

  
  


Sure, she’s been involved with...Josie.

  
  


But nothing else desires her presence. Hope surely needs to get out more. She needs to leave her dorm, she needs to meet new people. Maya has been going out like crazy, inviting Hope every time she steps off of campus. Next time, Hope will come with her. She promises it in her thoughts.

  
  


Hope occasionally—her schedule varies—spends her time on one of the benches near the campus. She likes the spot. The sun is always behind her, and a light breeze touches her face, casting her hair down for miles.

  
  


She used to go to that particular spot at the start of school. She always uses it as time to think. A month ago, she sat there solely thinking about Josie and the worries that had continuously troubled her—all still about Josie. She overthought so much, reasoned with herself and what she could do to make her _thoughts_ stop. Apollo would be envious. 

  
  


She could not bear it. There was only one thing she could think of.

  
  


She had constantly thought about it all. What words they had shared. She replayed every way that Josie looked at her, analyzing it and remembering it if she was there, right in front of Hope’s very face.

  
  


It agonized Hope. To think so much, so _fast_ about a girl she barely knew. A girl that she wasn’t on good terms with. A girl her father isn’t—wasn’t—supposed to know about.

  
  


Hope was truly frightened. Her thoughts scattered easily, nothing about it _enchanted_ or holding any shred of romanticism. She trusted a girl that she _hated_ , and probably disliked Josie for that very reason. Trust isn’t a fixture in Hope’s life. It comes after years, decades—like with Maya—or it never comes at all.

  
  


With Josie, she trusted the girl the minute she laid eyes on her. Even as the first word that came out of Hope’s mouth was bitter. Even though Josie _bit_ back.

  
  


It made Josie very attractive to the auburn-haired girl, for some fucked up reason.

  
  


Sitting at her desk makes her go back to when she sat on the bench. She partially is glad that those days are over. Although the spot was always nice, it was never truly comforting. Sure the breeze hits her with the delicacy of glass, sure the sun casts a shadow. But comfort isn’t the wind. Comfort isn’t the sun ablaze, hot and warm just for Hope.

  
  


That’s blind comfort. She thought the very Earth reeled under, moved the sun just a little to the right so she wouldn’t have to burn in front of it. But no. Hope is normal. She learns this with Josie.

  
  


Things that happen to people—bad things—are normal. Every emotion imaginable doesn’t just shake Hope’s heart because she’s special. She tries not to be so arrogant anymore. Especially not in front of Josie where the girl is there to tell her off.

  
  


Josie is good. Good for Hope.

  
  


Hope needs to be good for Josie, she decides on this easily.

  
  


Hope’s mind stops spinning when she realizes her pencil broke. Why was she using a pencil, again? She decides to take a break, standing up. At that exact moment, Josie comes dashing in through the door, a realization brokered across her face.

  
  


“Hey, where’ve you been?” Hope asks, wondering about the brunette’s whereabouts. She hadn’t seen Josie the whole morning. They hadn’t slept next to each other last night like the night before, and Hope dares not to mention it. Neither have mentioned it.

  
  


“At Lizzie’s,” Josie places her bag down, throwing her shoes off. Hope hopes that it means she’s staying back at the dorm for the rest of the day. She talks excitedly, explaining with her hands, “We were talking and I realized…”

  
  


“I don’t know much about you.”

  
  


Hope ignores the last part, fixating on one thing. Her mind goes into full-warning mode. “You told Lizzie about us?” Damn. Hope really thought they’d at least talk about it first. Josie was the one who wanted to keep it a secret, anyway.

  
  


She sighs.

  
  


“No. Calm down, Grumpy Bear,” Josie says. Hope puffs at the nickname from Care Bears, sitting back into her chair at the desk. She doesn’t mean to look even more like Grumpy Bear. “We were talking about Sebastian.”

  
  


Hope throws her a look.

  
  


“Good things, I swear,” Josie raises her hands, fully amused. “But, I realized we don’t know a lot about each other. Other than _those_ things.”

  
  


Josie blows over the subject.

  
  


Hope scoots back in her comfortable chair, eyeing Josie. The girl in front of Hope’s eyes is making herself comfortable on top of her bed. Hope obliges.

  
  


“What do you want to know?” She asks, intently staring at the girl. Hope is willing to answer anything. She needs to open up. She knows that now, sitting face-to-face with Josie, knowing it best not to mess things between them up. She’s messed things up before.

  
  


“I don’t know.”

  
  


Josie thinks for a second, upset that Hope would put her on the spot like that. She shrugs, her face frowning, “God, let me think. Stop staring at me like that.”

  
  


All Hope can do is smile. She loves being next to Josie. She’s the entertainment that a thousand circuses couldn’t offer—the dopamine that Hope’s neurotransmitters could never supply.

  
  


“What’s your favorite color?” Josie finally settles on, after a full minute. A very long minute, indeed. She even seems proud of herself, smiling as she asks. It endears Hope, but it’s also unexpected. She thought something more serious would come up.

  
  


Hope raises her eyebrows. “Seriously?!”

  
  


“Tell me,” Josie tilts her head to the side, leaning slightly forward. Hope feels herself slipping off of her own chair, feels herself leaning forward, too. She stands up, choosing just to sit next to Josie on her bed. Her love of Josie’s bed is evident.

  
  


“I don’t have one,” Hope shakes her head nonchalantly. It’s not much to offer, and she hopes the answer doesn’t disappoint. It’s sort of a lie. Looking at Josie, she sees all of her favorite colors at once.

  
  


A pause.

  
  


“That can’t be true.”

  
  


“What’s yours?” Hope takes one of Josie’s pillows, holding it to her stomach. It smells like Josie.

  
  


“Blue,” Josie says right away, locking eyes with Hope. Her cheeks rush red for an unknown reason and she takes the pillow Hope is holding and wacks her with it. The auburn-haired girl welcomes the distraction. She was just about to kiss the girl, the urge watered down from the smack of the pillow.

  
  


“Wow. You got mad at me, but that’s so vague,” Hope grins, easily smiling when it comes to Josie. The brown-eyed girl looks like she’s about to argue, but Hope cuts her off.

  
  


“What kind of blue?” The _blue_ -eyed girl offers several choices—sky, navy, denim, aqua. Josie shakes her head at every single answer. Their eyes meet, blue on brown. Josie looks into Hope’s eyes pointedly, her eyes narrowing and the space around them crinkling together.

  
  


After a moment, Hope realizes and takes it as Josie’s final answer, flustering under the girl’s stare.

  
  


“Stop,” Hope says, trying not to die from the way her heart seems to pound in her chest. It explodes every single time it beats.

  
  


“What?” Josie asks like she hadn’t got a clue. Like she doesn’t know what she’s doing to the poor girl. Josie smiles softly and leans back on the bed, deciding to lie down. Hope stays above her, sat criss-crossed on top of the bed. 

  
  


“Nothing,” Hope whispers, trying to think of something to ask Josie. 

  
  


Nothing comes to her. She doesn’t like this question game at all.

  
  


After a second—

  
  


“Sing me something.”

  
  


She’s serious, and Josie freezes for some time before she starts to shake her head, thinking Hope insane. Hope wants to hear Josie’s voice, much like she had when the girl was in the shower. Several times.

  
  


“I’m not going to do that,” Josie gets up off the bed, grabbing her phone off the nightstand. Hope thinks the girl is trying to distract her. 

  
  


“Why not?” Hope takes Josie’s phone, grabbing it when the girl gets back on the bed. “You’ve done it before.”

  
  


“I didn’t know you were listening,” she says decidedly, not giving Hope any attention. She actually turns the other way, not facing Hope at all. Hope doesn’t know why she’s so embarrassed.

  
  


“I told you about it,” Hope teases, “And even after that you still did it.”

  
  


Hope takes one of Josie’s hands and pulls her, trying to get the girl to be closer.

  
  


“—I think you knew I was listening.”

  
  


In an instant, Josie moves to face her, connecting their hands. She smiles, that same arrogance highlighting her. She turns it back on Hope, “Why were you listening?”

  
  


The blue-eyed girl is not prepared.

  
  


What can Hope exactly say? A lot of other people would put earphones in, or tell their roommate to shut up. But, no, Hope had done none of that. Well, she tried once to pull her earbuds in, but in a second they were out again. She stammers.

  
  


She can’t exactly say that it turned her on—combined with her dirty thoughts and the images of Josie in the shower...naked.

  
  


Hope plays with her fingers, hoping Josie won’t press it again. She’s at an utter loss. She tries to change the subject. She gets up, moving towards her desk, “I have some work to finish up.”

  
  


Josie hums—fucking _hums_ —and it draws Hope’s attention, though she doesn’t look back.

  
  


“I’ll sing for you.”

  
  


The words cause Hope to pause, and then she turns back quickly. It’s actually embarrassing how fast she sits on Josie’s bed again.

  
  


“You will?”

  
  


“No. Why do you want me to sing?” Josie questions back pointedly, stubborn to find out. This Josie is not particularly fun to be with.

  
  


“I like your voice,” Hope settles on, easily complimenting the girl. She fixes her eyes on Josie’s lips, becoming distracted. Josie melts right in front of her.

  
  


“You do?”

  
  


Hope nods.

  
  


“It helps me to think,” Josie says, holding Hope’s interest. She clarifies, twiddling her thumbs timidly, “Singing helps me think.”

  
  


“Have you ever sung in front of other people?” Hope asks, but she guesses the answer has to be yes. Josie doesn’t seem like a shy person, although she’s being shy right now.

  
  


“Yeah,” Josie scratches her throat, and Hope’s eyes lock on involuntarily. “Talent shows and school events. Only stuff like that, though.”

  
  


“Do you ever think seriously about singing?”

  
  


“You mean like being an artist?” Josie’s head tilts up in that adorable-familiar way, leaning to one side. Hope nods, causing Josie’s eyes to widen, “No. Oh, God, no.”

  
  


“I don’t think about it that seriously. Not as a job, at least,” Josie chuckles. She looks behind Hope’s shoulder, towards the wall, and Hope thinks she’s thinking about something else. Her mind seems far away.

  
  


“What do you want to do, then?”

  
  


_What would you do if your dad’s company didn’t exist?_

  
  


“I—”

  
  


Her voice shatters, almost cracking. She seems disappointed with herself. Sad even.

  
  


“I don’t know.”

  
  


Hope wants to connect their hands together. She ultimately doesn’t. “That’s not a bad thing. To not know what you want.”

  
  


She feels like a hypocrite, but hopes it gives Josie comfort. Josie sighs, exhaling a long breath. She seems to regret her next statement before she even says it, “Well, what do _you_ want to do?”

  
  


Fuck.

  
  


“—Is this really your dream?”

  
  


Her eyes bore into Hope’s own, searching simply for the truth.

  
  


“Yes,” Hope breathes, the word coming out shaky and so, so wrong.

  
  


_No_.

  
  


_Not at all_.

  
  


-

  
  


Later that evening, Hope invites Josie to come to the library with her. She isn’t doing anything, and Hope feels like going out. She’s going crazy by staying inside and working on her schoolwork. Maybe working in the library will help her think and actually finish her stuff.

  
  


She also wants to spend as much time with Josie before Monday. The brown-haired girl has work that day, the day after, and the day after that.

  
  


“Won’t I just distract you?” Josie asks on the walk there, walking closely next to Hope. It’s cold, and Hope notices that Josie is wearing _her_ sweatshirt. Again. She’s also wearing a cute little skirt, something school-girlish and not exactly helping Hope’s dangerous thoughts.

  
  


It rises up to her thighs. Very, very, very high up. Hope’s sweatshirt almost falls below it.

  
  


It’s getting dark, the time around six o’clock. The sun sets early today.

  
  


“Aren’t you bringing your stuff, too?” Hope asks, gesturing to the backpack that Josie is carrying. It looks heavy, so, what’s in it? Maybe her laptop and _all_ of her textbooks?

  
  


“Yeah, but I don’t really have anything to do,” she complains. She pauses, holding Hope’s hand to pull her back into the direction of the dorm hall, “Can’t we just go and make out?”

  
  


Hope bites back a smile, trying not to succumb to the urge to drag Josie back to their room. Josie slowly steps closer to Hope, her brown eyes darkening. With one of Josie’s hands gripping Hope’s hip, Hope feels an overwhelming throb of arousal. The heated, _femme fatale_ look that Josie is throwing at her isn’t such of a helper, either.

  
  


Josie’s voice lowers, much like a secret. She starts, rather enthusiastically.

  
  


“Maybe we can even have s—”

  
  


“Josie,” Hope pouts, gulping and trying not to think about _that_. She has so much fucking work to do. She steals a glance behind them, really thinking about going back. She sighs, shaking her head at last, “I have to finish my paper.”

  
  


And a book. And a whole-ass thesis that she has to be able to present by Monday afternoon.

  
  


“Your essay is more important than me?” Josie pouts, playfully tearing away from Hope and stepping off into the distance. She starts to walk away, but Hope can see a smile on her face.

  
  


“Yes,” Hope yells out, heading to the library. She doesn’t bother to look behind her.

  
  


She can hear Josie’s footsteps a second later, following close behind her.

  
  


-

  
  


They end up sitting all the way in the back. There are only three other people inside, and Josie and Hope sneak to the end of the aisle. They sit down, Hope pulling her laptop out right away.

  
  


The lights are dimmed in the back, and Hope likes that her eyes don’t have to be blinded by the obnoxious light in the front of the room. She takes out her materials, Josie doing the same beside her. Josie sits close to her, scooting her chair as near as possible.

  
  


A minute later, she tires of Josie’s eyes over her shoulder. She’s getting uncomfortable under the girl’s gaze, unable to type a single letter. “Don’t you want to get ahead of your classes or something?”

  
  


“I am ahead,” she states cockily, insulted by Hope assuming she isn’t. Josie’s notebooks are stacked up and organized near Hope’s stuff. “Wow. I’m the one with a job and _you’re_ behind? Ouch.”

  
  


Her tone is way too haughty. It sort of reminds Hope of the first time Josie talked to her. She laughs, but Hope doesn’t find it funny. She sighs, closing one of the tabs that are opened, “Are you just going to bully me?”

  
  


“I can do something else, if you want,” Josie whispers, her voice low and right into Hope’s ear. Warmth flushes throughout Hope’s body and she almost snaps her laptop shut. She looks around to see if anyone is paying attention to them. No one is.

  
  


She just needs to get through her conclusion. That’s it. It’s a conclusion. Should be easy. She breathes in, trying to focus on her paper and not what Josie had just whispered.

  
  


Hope scoots her chair away, trying to get on the right track. Josie doesn’t follow after her, only opening one of her own notebooks and throwing a smile at her.

  
  


Thirty minutes later, Hope has one single sentence written for her conclusion. It’s also a five-word sentence, two of the words are _Fuck_.

  
  


_Fuck this essay, fuck you._

  
  


She deletes it.

  
  


In the meanwhile, Josie is now across from her, jogging down something in her notebook. Hope finds herself transfixed by the girl, the dim light touching the girl’s face and completely swooning Hope’s heart. The brunette’s brow furrows in concentration one second, and then relaxes in the next. Her fingers play with the side of her paper, and sometimes they run through her hair after she’s written something down.

  
  


Her eyes flick back and forth on what she’s written—perhaps checking her work—and her bottom lip remains tucked in between her teeth. Hope tries to return back to her work, determined to finish her paper.

  
  


A second later, she catches Josie putting down her pencil, closing her notebooks. The brunette closes her eyes, stretching her neck right and then left slowly. It looks calculated, very controlled. It captures Hope’s attention in a second, and she tries to sway her thoughts in the right direction.

  
  


It’s innocent. It’s innocent.

  
  


Then, Josie licks her lips. Hope doesn’t think so anymore. She thinks Josie’s playing with her, or, at the least, doing something suggestive on purpose.

  
  


After a long, long moment, Josie opens her eyes. Hope tries not to shiver at the sudden way they lock eyes—instantly, Hope caught and frozen. Josie’s stare is dark and wanton—right underneath her eyelashes, her lips wine-red and slightly wet from the way she’s licked them moments before.

  
  


Josie arches an eyebrow and Hope shifts in her seat, her hips kicking up off the chair an eighth of an inch. Filled with want and not the most decent thoughts, she shuts her laptop, standing up and dragging Josie to the book aisle behind them.

  
  


Josie gets up quickly, a noticeable smirk on her face. She follows Hope, a wide smile on her face, “See? I told you I was just going to distract you.”

  
  


Josie shuts up right away, Hope’s lips pressing into her own, Hope’s hips pressing Josie right against the bookshelf. She pins Josie to the bookshelf, arms on either side of her body. Hope’s hands resign on the books, trying to keep her balance.

  
  


After a second, Hope parts Josie’s mouth open and slides her tongue inside, not caring about being gentle and patient. Their kiss becomes sloppy, their bodies flush against each other. A book falls from the shelf, but Hope can’t hear it over the noise coming from Josie.

  
  


Josie’s head turns, perhaps needing air, and Hope uses the time to drag down Josie’s—Hope’s—sweatshirt so she can mark the girl’s neck. Exactly how she wants to. She moves the piece of clothing a little to the side, giving herself room. She uses one of her hands to keep the sweatshirt down.

  
  


She sucks on Josie’s pulse point, kissing there first, and loves how it makes Josie completely fall apart. The girl pants into her ear, cursing every so often. It turns Hope on more than she would’ve thought. She warms under Josie’s breath and can’t stop from sucking and biting into her roommate’s skin.

  
  


She goes over skin that’s already bruised, can’t stop from marking what’s hers.

  
  


She loves giving Josie attention—Josie responds to it almost eagerly. It’s attractive how Josie bucks her hips after an aggressive kiss, or how the brunette grips back at Hope, trying to entangle herself from the trap that Hope has put her in while simultaneously being submissive.

  
  


Josie cups her face, telling Hope to kiss her again. She arches into Hope, their chests touching painstakingly against each other. Hope’s hand falls from the shelf and grips the underside of Josie’s thigh, her skin that’s exposed from the short skirt. 

  
  


Josie seems sensitive because she reacts right away, groaning and mumbling into Hope’s mouth, “ _Fuck_.”

  
  


Josie starts to moan—loudly—and Hope decides to move her hand away, not wanting to keep rubbing the sensitive area of Josie’s thigh, or accidentally touch her underwear. 

  
  


“Shh. You need to be quiet,” Hope whispers, trying to hear if anyone is close to them. She doesn’t hear a single person talk, she doesn’t hear a single voice other than Josie’s.

  
  


“Make me.”

  
  


Fuck. Josie and her inability to yield.

  
  


Hope needs to breathe. She needs to stop, now. They can’t do it here. Especially not in this library. But, she doesn’t think she can get away with _not_ having sex with the girl.

  
  


Not when bolts of pleasure keep striking her every time Josie bucks up, grinding against her. It can almost be called dry-humping. She feels a fire pool in her stomach, and she itches to settle it—itches to pleasure Josie.

  
  


“You’re so hot in this skirt,” Hope finally gathers the strength to pull away, looking at Josie’s appearance. With her eyes opened, the lights are almost completely shut off in the library. What time does the library close on Sunday, anyway?

  
  


“You’re so hot all of the time,” Josie murmurs as her eyes fly open, her pupils blown and eyelids heavy. Josie moves in for another kiss, but Hope backs up.

  
  


“Maybe we should stop,” she whispers, the library deadly silent.

  
  


“Shut up.”

  
  


Something shoots down Hope’s abdomen, making it harder for her to step back once more.

  
  


“Do you really want to do it in a library?” Hope asks, a smug smile on her face at Josie’s rashness. They got really, really carried away. She wonders if there are still students in here.

  
  


“You’re right,” Josie pulls away, nodding and wiping her face. She touches her lips and Hope feels kind of bad. They look swollen—they look like they hurt. She looks thoroughly made out with.

  
  


They get back to the table and Hope remembers her assignments and all of the work she has to do. She checks the time. It’s eight at night. How has two hours passed so quickly?

  
  


Shit. She needs Maya. They walk back together, Hope kind of hurrying. She needs to finish her assignments. She doesn’t want to go to sleep late and she has a class early.

  
  


“Do you mind if I invite Maya over?” Hope asks once they get back, trying to hide the worry on her face. She’s never stressed this much over an...assignment. When did she get like this? Maybe Maya and her can split up the work. Hope can’t even remember what she did on Saturday. Did she just fuck around the whole day?

  
  


She hates how much she procrastinates. She probably has to drive to the store and grab energy and caffeinated drinks now. Ugh.

  
  


“I can help you.”

  
  


“Huh?”

  
  


“With your work,” Josie offers, looking at the papers sprawled out across Hope’s desk.

  
  


“No. Go to sleep,” she says, waving the girl off. She doesn’t want to keep Josie up. Especially when she has a thousand things to deal with tomorrow. 

  
  


“Like I’m supposed to be able to go to sleep with you and Maya laughing like hyenas?” She frowns, grabbing her desk chair and putting it next to Hope’s desk chair. Hope hates how she doesn’t look like she’s joking at all. Hope and Maya don’t laugh like hyenas. No.

  
  


“What? We don’t laugh like hyenas,” Hope tries to say, but then Josie starts to _mimic_ them, mocking her with a crazy-ass laughter. It makes Hope’s ears bleed and fall to the ground.

  
  


It doesn’t make Hope feel good. She pouts after Josie’s fit is done, “We don’t laugh like that.”

  
  


She continues, trying to convince Josie, “You haven’t even seen us laugh.”

  
  


Josie shrugs, “Okay.”

  
  


“Whatever,” Hope refocuses. “So Maya can’t come over?”

  
  


“No,” Josie says directly. She starts to dig through Hope’s papers, organizing them how she sees fit. She can tell that Josie likes to organize stuff. Very compartmental. She even opens Hope’s laptop, getting herself comfortable _and_ familiar.

  
  


She glances at Hope once during the whole process, mumbling something lowly. Hope only catches the words because her eyes are on Josie’s lips, “I want you to myself.”

  
  


It takes an hour until they both fully begin to concentrate. The first hour involved a lot of jokes, meaningless words, and complaints from both sides.

  
  


“Why are you using that pencil?” Josie asks five minutes in, when she catches Hope throwing it back and forth in her hands.

  
“What do you mean?” Hope frowns. She picks it up. It’s a normal pencil. A Number 2 pencil, in fact. “What’s wrong with it?”

  
  


“It’s so...ugly,” Josie deflates, her face disturbed by just looking at it. “Don’t you have standards?”

  
  


“Why are you being mean to a pencil?” Hope tucks it in her desk drawer, not wanting the pencil to hear Josie’s cruel words. Josie’s being a bully today, first at the library and now at the dorm. She thinks Josie is just in a mood at nighttime. Or maybe this is how she always is. Hope hasn’t spent enough time with her to know for sure.

  
  


But now, it seems like they’re spending all of the time in the world with each other.

  
  


Josie ignores her, going over her essay. She frowns, her frown deepening as she gets further and further into Hope’s paper. Hope finds herself growing insulted by it. Especially when Josie starts, “No offense, but this—”

  
  


Hope cuts her off instantly.

  
  


“I’m calling Maya.”

  
  


-

  
  


Hope ends up finishing her assignments, with the help of Josie. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, pass by horribly slow. She doesn’t see Josie at all. They have different sleep and school schedules, never once aligning with each other. She does see Maya and her friends, though. They went out on every single night, choosing dinner spots by turn. Yesterday was Hope’s turn.

  
  


She had chosen a Mexican spot. She hates how it had reminded her of Josie—and that night they did take-out together.

  
  


It’s thoughtless to suppose that Hope was able to get sleep those nights. She went to bed early, asleep but not asleep. She had nightmares, but not the ones that pulled her out of sleep. They were the ones that kept her in, locked until the very moment when it was time for class.

  
  


She hates, even now, how she’s sulking about everything. Her and Josie are in a good place. She shouldn’t be upset. She thinks it’s mainly because she hasn’t seen the girl in the longevity of three whole days.

  
  


On Thursday, it’s known that one of Sam’s friends is throwing a hangout—for some reason, everyone’s been ignoring the word _party_. Hope hears it from Maya and she later tells Josie, only to find out that the girl already knows about it. Hope was forced into it by her friends, but really she had promised them last time that she’ll come to the _next_ party.

  
  


She had heard of it Wednesday, but hadn’t had time until today to bring it up to her roommate.

  
  


“Are you going?” Hope asks in the afternoon, her tone bordering on shy. She hasn’t seen Josie much because of work and desperately wants to be able to see her at this party. She doesn’t know if they’ll get another time to see one another.

  
  


She knows they probably won’t be able to talk. They’ll undoubtedly have to act like they don’t know each other. Hope thinks she doesn’t care. Just simply seeing Josie will make her day.

  
  


Will make her week.

  
  


“Yes,” Josie says, sending Hope a sad glance. It doesn’t give the blue-eyed girl much hope. Why is Josie acting so upset? The party won’t be _that_ bad. They’ll see each other. Isn’t that cause for excitement enough? She wonders if it means that Josie is going to ignore her, or if Josie simply will avoid her completely.

  
  


“What’s wrong?” 

  
  


“Nothing,” Josie smiles softly, but the curve of her lips fails to ease Hope’s worries. “I have to get going. I told Lizzie I was coming over.”

  
  


“Right now?” Hope frowns. She wants another minute. No, that’s not it. She wants another century.

  
  


“Right now,” the brown-haired girl confirms, picking up some of the stuff on her bed to take with her. The look on her face is anxious when she says, “I’ll see you?”

  
  


Hope doesn’t know what that means. She’ll see Josie at the party? After the party? She tries to stop overthinking everything. It isn’t worth it. The past weekend should reassure her.

  
  


It ceases to.

  
  


Josie walks past her, kissing her once on the cheek. It lingers on Hope like a death—absolutely bruising. It stills her reactions, she forgets to do anything. She forgets to pull Josie aside, call her back, kiss her square on the lips instead. 

  
  


Her roommate opens the door and slides through it. It shuts behind her slowly, as if she had hesitated before closing it. Hope does respond, but the words only materialize after the girl has left.

  
  


“You’ll see me.”


	27. Chapter 27

A friendly reminder:

  
  


Bad feelings never go away.

  
  


They don’t.

  
  


They linger in Hope’s stomach, they reach to her gut and stay.

  
  


Today, Hope Mikaelson has a bad feeling. It happens.

  
  


She wakes up with _bad_ feelings all the time.

  
  


It happens, she thinks. It doesn’t mean anything.

  
  


“I hear Josie’s going,” Maya murmurs, concentratedly painting Hope’s nails on the bed.

  
  


As soon as Josie had left, Maya had barged into her room about an hour ago, talking about outfits and the party. Technically, the party has already started, but Hope’s group never arrives early. In fact, they arrive two hours late on purpose. Well, usually. Sometimes there’s an exception.

  
  


Tonight isn’t one.

  
  


Hope blinks, finally registering her friend’s words. For the past hour, her mind’s been stuck on the same, reoccurring thoughts:

  
  


Josie. 

She freezes, not having expected her friend to bring her up in an actual conversation. Maya doesn’t completely know about what Josie and her have been up to the past few days. Hope doesn’t exactly want to own up to it all now.

  
  


Oddly, right now she just feels numb about the whole thing altogether. There’s no other way to put it. She’s almost...impartial. She can care less about their _arrangement_? She doesn’t mind it, she wants Josie to be ready and feel good about it. She likes to entertain the idea that their relationship is just that—just for them. So, no, Hope doesn’t really want to tell Maya or anyone about it. 

  
  


But, she isn’t completely upset. Truly, she’s fine with their secret. She actually prefers it, especially right now. The only thing she’s stuck on truly—again, there’s that word _truly_ —is that she just wants to talk to Josie.

  
  


Just the same, though, she feels awkward about their conversation. Josie was acting kind of weird. Hope’s been thinking about it ever since—her mind relapsing towards the same memory of Josie from earlier. She knows she shouldn’t feel upset at how they probably won’t get to talk, though it’s the first time they are truly seeing each other in days. She hates this.

  
  


But—

  
  


People don’t see each other for years. Families don’t get to talk to each other for decades. Mothers and their children, brothers and their sisters, are all kept from each other for reasons far worse. Why is Hope even allowed to feel this way?

  
  


It’s pathetic.

  
  


She tries to remember that her parents had taught her better than this—to be grateful. But then again, they haven’t ever checked her privilege, they haven’t ever taken the time to instill values and morals into her.

  
  


Hope tries to calm her thoughts. But again, images of Josie pop up. Starting this shit—Hope’s very much a professional over-thinker—again.

  
  


She wants to listen to her, she wants to look at her. The blue-eyed girl hates how she’s starting to feel this strongly towards the brunette. All the fucking time.

  
  


No break. No ounce of rest, no stopping of the time. Nothing.

  
  


Maya snaps her fingers, bringing Hope back. Hope decides to act surprised, but doesn’t show too much excitement. “Hmm. Really?”

  
  


She speaks it softly, deciding to narrow her eyes at the way Maya is being merciless with her nail beds. That girl doesn’t have a kind bone in her body. She winces every now and then.

  
  


“Yeah, Penelope was talking about it earlier,” Maya starts with Hope’s thumb, painting it a bright white color. She moves on to the rest of her nails, finishing quickly just to throw Hope a look.

  
  


“You haven’t talked to her?”

  
  


“Who?”

  
  


Hope gets another pointed look.

  
  


_Oh. Josie_.

  
  


“No,” Hope lies through her teeth, trying not to reveal anything. The way her jaw juts out and hardens isn’t exactly convincing. The wavering tone of her voice lingers even after she asks, “Why?”

  
  


Maya hums.

  
  


“What are you thinking of wearing?” Hope’s friend changes the subject, finishing Hope’s other hand.

  
  


“Uh,” Hope stammers, confused at the change. It takes all of two seconds for her to feel insecure. She glances down at her outfit pathetically, “I thought _this_ would be okay.”

  
  


She points at what she’s wearing and can already see the disapproving look form on Maya’s face. She had dressed in ripped jeans and a top, thinking that this was something casual.

  
  


“Oh, honey,” she breathes, sounding actually upset. “You’re not serious. You look like it’s one in the morning and your sister started throwing up so you need to run to the store to grab medicine.”

  
  


“I don’t have a sister,” Hope makes a face at the ugly-ass comparison. “What are _you_ wearing?” Hope asks, trying not to be offended. This is usually how Maya is. It’s why they’re best friends—plus a ton of other shit, too.

  
  


Maya walks over to the duffel she brought over and then zippers it open, pouring its contents all over Hope’s bed. It’s over ten pieces of clothing.

  
  


Hope flinches.

  
  


Seemingly, at the exact same time, Sam tears the door open, yelling, “Hey bitches!”

  
  


She has a bottle of something fruity in her hand. Hope sighs, taking the bottle out of her friend’s hand so she can sip on it. She needs a big, big break, “Maya did you leave the door unlocked?”

  
  


“Well, Sam said she was gonna come so why would I lock it?” Maya asks confusedly, making Hope out to be an idiot. She didn’t even know Maya _or_ Sam was coming over. She reads the label, glad to see it’s more than fifty-percent alcohol. She drinks as much as she can before Sam takes it away, but the cooler doesn’t even burn in her throat.

  
  


She hates how she feels so numb.

  
  


It feels like one of her bad days.

  
  


“Whoa, what the eff are you doing?” Sam shouts after she takes it. She finishes the drink, and then throws the bottle on the floor sadly. Hope reminds herself to pick it up before Josie sees it later. The brunette would kill her.

  
  


Josie isn’t much of a drinker—Hope alike—although the brunette acts drunk...all the freaking time. Hope knows it’s just Josie’s personality—how playful she gets, how her eyes look glazed over at times but Hope knows she hasn’t had anything to drink.

  
  


Josie’s eyes, on their own, are interesting. The way they give her away so much. Hope won’t ever take it for granted—not when she’s known expressionless faces, not when she’s had to force her own quite before.

  
  


“Where’d you get it?” Hope asks, wondering how Sam was able to get some in the first place. Hope herself doesn’t even know what compelled her to take it out of Sam’s hand.

  
  


It can’t be the digging feeling in her chest.

  
  


It can’t be the mess of her mind.

  
  


She knows alcohol never does anything for her. It doesn’t make the pain go away, it doesn’t make her forget anything. It never affects her like how it’s told by stories, or shown by movies. Even if she’s had more than a few sips, even when she’s had whole cases. It only makes everything worse. It makes her act worse. More worse and more rude than how she already acts.

  
  


So, Hope Mikaelson isn’t a drinker. It doesn’t stop her friends from doing so, though. She finds it weird how they’re only eighteen but are always seemingly drinking.

  
  


“I went to Ethan’s and then I left to come here,” Sam explains, talking about her friend who had invited them all to the party. Well, the majority of the freshmen class and some of the other classes as well. Hope isn’t exactly sure on who _isn’t_ invited. The party plan’s were only made yesterday, but everyone’s talking about it as if it was made a month ago.

  
  


It kind of reminds her about high school and how everyone’s always excited about parties there. It had always been the buzz of the day. It had always been all over social media, or talked about during classes. Hope actually liked her high school days. Her friend group wasn’t particularly...horrible.

  
  


Maya frowns, betrayed like no other at Sam already starting to party, “What happened to us all going together at the same time?”

  
  


“Well, I didn’t stay…”

  
  


“Well, obviously,” Hope mumbles, getting up out of the bed. She blows on her nails, trying to get them to dry so she can actually start on other things. She looks like a mess. Other than what she thought was a good outfit.

  
  


“So Ethan and Seb are coming over,” Maya starts, getting off the bed, too. She looks at Hope’s reaction closely. She apprehensively says, “...Just to let you know.”

  
  


Hope shakes her head, wearing a slight grin. They do this so much that now it’s expected.

  
  


“Whatever,” Hope says, looking around at the already messy room. She grabs a plastic bag off of the floor, “We just can’t turn the room into a mess cause then I’ll have to clean it before my roommate comes back.”

  
  


Maya and Sam share a look and Hope catches just as their eyes depart from each other.

  
  


“So, how is she?” Sam sounds suspiciously up to something. A crazy-ass look takes over her face. It reminds her of the time when Maya and Sam had tried setting Hope on a date that one time a few years ago with a guy she didn’t know. She smiles, clarifying, though she doesn’t need to. “How’s Josie?”

  
  


“I wouldn’t know,” Hope tries, tired of this. They know something. She narrows her eyes at both of them, already wanting to dive head-first into a brick, “What are you getting at?”

  
  


The three of them never talk about feelings head-on. It’s always suggestive, unless Maya’s confronting her about something. Maya has a habit of confronting Hope. It started during high school when she first caught Hope checking out one of the cheerleaders. The worst part—Maya and her didn’t even go to the same school together.

  
  


It was at a football game. Maya only got in without paying because she stole Hope’s school ID, and the security guard.... _let_ her go in. She wonders how Maya always knows what she’s thinking, especially when she was looking at the cheerleader for a second.

  
  


A _second_.

  
  


“Didn’t you go on a date with her?”

  
  


Hope sighs. She knew she never should’ve texted Maya back, but curiosity had hit her like five-dozen cars and there she was, texting back. Hope hadn’t even blatantly said anything to the girl. Hope had only told Maya one thing. She mentally hits herself across her forehead, thinking about which textbook to buck her head against first. Maybe the heaviest one, so it’ll completely knock her out.

  
  


She feels frustrated. She doesn’t want to talk about this. She doesn’t want to deal with this. She doesn’t want to think about this. She wants her mind off of it.

  
  


She—

  
  


Crap. Now she’s thinking about the brunette again.

  
  


She just wants to see Josie. She wants to talk. She wants to make sure the girl is okay. She had left in a hurry, and Hope knows something’s off. She hated the look on Josie’s face—upset for a reason Hope doesn’t know. She can’t stop thinking about it.

  
  


Fuck. She can’t stop thinking about it. Can’t stop picturing Josie’s down-turned lips and the dark tint to her eyes, can’t stop—

  
  


“No.”

  
  


“Then what did you do with her? What _are_ you doing with her?”

  
  


It feels like every word her mind has mentioned, it feels like something she’s heard several thousand times before. It sounds like _Good-morning_ , it sounds like _Goodnight_. Her ears are tired of it.

  
  


Sam crosses her arms. Great. Maya told her. If it wasn’t so obvious before, it’s definitely obvious now. This looks like an intervention. Sam and Maya both know that they’ve kissed. But it’s just a kiss. A kiss means nothing. Right?

  
  


Nothing, Hope decides on. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

  
  


“Nothing,” Hope shrugs, looking them in the eye so they can stop bothering her. If she looks away for a second, they’ll know she’s lying. “I told you. So stop. She’s with—”

  
  


She almost gags. This lying thing is hard. 

  
  


“—Penelope.”

  
  


Maya’s face scrunches up instantly and Hope can’t stop her growing irritation. Can her friend not get a clue?

  
  


“Then why’d she come over to my dorm to get ready to go out that night? You even texted me to tell her to come—”

  
  


“Dude, stop. I don’t want to talk about this right now.” Hope rubs at her forehead hard. Her patience wears thin and she feels ready to explode. 

  
  


“No. I won’t accept that. You suck at this. Why can’t you ever just say what you feel?”

  
  


Maya looks to Sam, and Sam nods her head, agreeing. It’s a two-versus-one, like they’ve talked about this with each other. Maya carries on, “It’s not that hard. You act like there’s nothing to say all the time, but you look a fucking coward instead.”

  
  


She tries to think Maya is being playful. The girl is always doing stuff like this. She always hides reality behind her words, she always plays it off to not make Hope close up. It’s not enough this time.

  
  


No. This time, it sets Hope off big time. It reminds her of when Josie had called her as such.

  
  


Hope closes her eyes, but her emotions burst out like a four-alarm-fire. Her voice is terribly rude even to her own ears and she regrets the explosion the second it comes out, “Just shut the fuck up, Maya.”

  
  


The room disintegrates. The four-alarm-fire _burns_.

  
  


“Someone hit a nerve,” Sam whispers underneath her breath and Hope has the slight idea to tell her to shut the fuck up, too. The logic left in her blood doesn’t allow it. 

  
  


“Tell me to do that again. I dare you, Hope,” Maya sneers, but Hope’s shut-down looks expected. Months of trauma does that to a person. “I fucking dare you.”

  
  


Hope almost flinches. Maya never uses that word. It’s always something along the line of bitch or dumb-ass. 

  
  


_Apologize. Apologize. Apologize._

  
  


She grits her teeth, the same words ready in her throat. She swallows it down, but her emotions heat back up all the same.

  
  


_Apologize. Apologize_ — “I, uh…”

  
  


Nothing.

  
  


“Let’s get ready. Seb and Ethan should be over any minute now. We shouldn’t be changing in front of them,” Sam speaks up, standing in the middle between the two. She pauses, looking hard back and forth between them, as though her eyes would make them stop, her hands start to gesture, too. It’s also helpless.

  
  


Her hands fall to her sides.

  
  


“One of you move or I will literally kill you both and then _no one_ is going to the party.”

  
  


The door springs wide open, Ethan and Sebastian in its wake. “Hey guys, what’d we miss?”

  
  


No one moves.

  
  


-

  
  


The drive to the party is silent. Sam doesn’t pick a side and Hope wonders if that means she’ll have to suffer throughout the party completely alone. She knows Sebastian will leave for Lizzie and Ethan is just hard to read.

  
  


Sebastian turns up the radio and is immediately met with, “Turn that shit off.”

  
  


Sam throws a worried glance in Maya’s direction. The brunette is always down for pre-gaming, especially when it comes to just simply music. Hope’s pride won’t allow her to do anything about it. Maya might be like this for the whole night.

  
  


Hope’s arms cross and as she looks out the window, finding that it’s a very busy neighborhood. Busy for a late Thursday night. She wonders why all of the houses are lit-up. How does the freshmen even _have_ a house? All freshmen are required to live on campus. Maybe it’s his parents’?

  
  


Sebastian parks down the block—the only parking available—and the walk up the sideway is also silent. The boys awkwardly walk behind them and Hope comes to conclude that Sam probably told them not to get involved. They usually would’ve said something by now.

  
  


When they get to the door, the group decides just to stay together. They follow Sebastian to a spot in the backyard, which sort of reminds Hope of her own childhood-home backyard. There are chopped-down tree-trunks for chairs, and it’s a very big backyard. Fit for a dozen dogs and a hundred ducks.

  
  


This night reminds her of old Thursday nights when some of her relatives would come over and they’d all sit in the back and start talking. If Hope was too young for a conversation, her father or mother would tell her to go play on the swings. Her father would be laughing all of the time, happy like she’s never seen him. Hope would sit by her mother, her mom toying with her hair and cuddling her on her lap. Hope always had hoped that the hand in her hair would never stop, and hated the second her mother had stopped—the second the movement had died and her mom had busied herself with talking.

  
  


She’d be sitting on the tree-trunk closest to the house so that she can answer the phone—which she always seemed to do a lot. Her dad would sometimes get up to chase Hope around the circle of chairs and when he finally caught her, he’d hold her up for the sky to see. He’d shout anything, and she’d laugh at it like it was the best joke she'd ever heard.  
  


Her relatives would at times forget about her. Sometimes, it was like she wasn’t there. Hope liked it very much—to listen to an adult conversation, to be with adults. She’s always been an only child, and didn’t have other children to play around with in the family. She’d fill up the empty yard with her voice, talking and talking. At times, she’d talk to no one, just to herself.

  
  


She’d look over the walls of the backyard, trying to glance at the neighbors though there was nothing there but hundreds and hundreds of feet of distance. Her mother would sneak behind her, hugging her and she’d want to reenact the moment all over again.

  
  


These memories—these things she forgets every now and then—make her remember that her parents weren’t all that gone. They had been there, every now and them. The business hadn’t completely consumed them.

  
  


It’s easy to think that when they’re dead now, and all she wants is just one more memory.

  
  


It’s so easy.

  
  


The music isn’t too loud and Hope likes it far more than any other party she’s been to. It seems like a _hangout_ , just like how it’s been endorsed to be. The only thing confusing about that single word—hangout—is just how many people are here.

  
  


She thinks she only cares to like it because of the memories it brings up. She doesn’t know if she would’ve remembered any of this—the way her parents had been _there_ —otherwise.

  
  


Sebastian takes them to the right side of the yard, pointing to Lizzie who’s waving at the group. Hope can’t spot Josie. She hasn’t spotted her at all, but she’s sure it’s because her mind has been on something else. If she’ll take the time to look, she should spot Josie in seconds.

  
  


“Hi!” Lizzie smiles, but her excitement isn’t for them. It’s evident it’s only for Sebastian as the two hug and then kiss like it's the first time they’ve done so all over again. Hope sighs. Where’s Josie?

  
  


Landon is also there, which is sort of a surprise for Hope. He waves and she nods, unable to carry out the simple task of smiling. Her lips aren’t fit for it right now. Her fight with Maya lingers and the sour look on the brunette’s face mirrors in the blue-eyed girl’s own expression. She hasn't ever fucked up this badly with Maya in the long time they've been friends. What was she thinking? How could she really tell the girl to shut up when all she was doing was caring? Hope can't believe herself. Why can't she ever just apologize?

  
  


Hope sits on one of the tree-trunks and her hands scratch the sides, trying to remember more. She craves for nostalgia again, she wants to elicit other memories. Maybe touching the wood will help.

  
  


Maybe.

  
  


Her eyes hit the grass and for a second she imagines her younger self playing with the ladybugs that fly all around, touching the grass although it’ll itch later, her mother had warned her.

  
  


Hope’s skin had always been sensitive.

  
  


Her thoughts stop instantly when she hears, “Oh, hey! Josie!”

  
  


Hope’s eyes shoot to see the brunette’s face and she checks out the brunette's appearance.

  
  


Her eyes narrow when she recognizes the voice as Maya’s, who’s standing right next to Josie. She knows that Maya says it just loud enough so that she can hear her, too. That tone of voice only comes out on several occasions. The smirk on her face says so and the hug they pull into has Hope indenting her nails into the wood, trying to keep the frown off of her face.

  
  


“Josie. I’m so _glad_ to see you,” Maya mentions excitably, keeping her arms tucked over Hope’s roommate’s shoulder. Hope fights every urge to shoot off of the chair and interrupt them.

  
  


Maya gets like this when she wants something. When she’s mad at Hope. When she knows she deserves better as a friend. Hope should just apologize before this gets out of hand.

  
  


Yes. She should apologize. Now. Hope makes the decision, but her feet don’t move and she stays planted in her spot. She tries to hide her worry, but the worry plays on her face still, like a shadow plays on a face that’s staring at a fire.

  
  


She knows Maya wouldn’t do anything. They’re best friends. They’re sisters. This is just a stupid fight. Maya just likes to play, especially when she’s upset. 

  
  


“You know, Josie...”

  
  


A wicked smile plays on her face and Josie’s eyes dart around the backyard apprehensively.

  
  


Maya won’t do anything.

  
  


“I heard something.”

  
  


Maya won’t.

  
  


Hope freezes.

  
  


Maya won’t—

  
  


“I heard that you have _quite_ the secret.” Maya side-glances really, really obviously at Penelope, who’s in a conversation with Milton. 

  
  


A sigh of relief.

  
  


Hope looks around for Lizzie. She’s sitting next to Sebastian, right in his lap, but her eyes are on Josie and she’s listening in intently. So, so intently.

  
  


Not a sigh of relief.

  
  


But other people are listening. Yes. Other people are listening.

  
  


Hope gets up. She panics and the feeling thickens on her face, heaving her chest and keeping her breath shallow. She glances around the tight area they’re in. The music sounds so quiet now.

  
  


Is it even still playing?

  
  


Josie looks almost pained. Her eyes are searching and when she catches Hope’s, she looks confused. It kills Hope. Hope’s eyes bat away, laced with anxiety. She can’t look at Josie.

  
  


What is Maya doing?

  
  


No, Hope wants to shout. 

  
  


_No. No. No._

  
  


Maya won’t. 

  
  


“Oooo! A _secret_?” Lizzie asks, getting herself involved. She springs off of Sebastian’s chest and he whines playfully, trying to wrap his arms around his stomach to get her back. 

  
  


Hope stands as a statue. She breathes no air, her lungs still like concrete. Her lips purse together, glued. Her feet dig into the ground.

  
  


Her eyes—stuck only on the scene before her. 

  
  


Bad feelings really never do go away.


	28. Chapter 28

Forever passes by—though it’s really only three seconds. It’s a period of time where Hope fails to breathe and it’s a period of time where the space around her starts to enclose, effectively suffocating the blue-eyed girl.

  
  


It seems Josie is having an equally hard time breathing as well.

  
  


“My secret?” Josie asks confusedly, her voice cracking even before her mouth opens. Her usual confident, playful demeanor is absent, and she licks her lips once.

  
  


Maya nods, swinging an arm over the girl’s shoulder like they’ve known each other for decades. Hope feels jealous and upset, and the panic she once felt turns into pure, boiling anger. A part of her knows that Maya won’t do anything. She’s been repeating that sentence for the past two minutes.

  
  


Two minutes.

  
  


It feels like a century. Yes—a century encompasses the time better.

  
  


Though she knows Maya won’t go through with it, the knowledge doesn’t help to ease the nausea in her throat. She’s stuck feeling upset that Maya would even try this. That’d she start this and make Hope feel this way.

  
  


She can read her friend like a book she’s read over a hundred times—she knows Maya’s angles, she can tell when Maya is hurt, she can tell how the brunette will usually react. This very second, she knows Maya is hurt, but Hope doesn’t understand why she’s being so out about it. Mostly, Hope’s outbursts never truly set the girl off. Maya always seems to understand, as she knows what’s going on in Hope’s brain instantly—her closed-off thoughts, her inability to say or reveal much of anything. 

  
  


What’s different this time?

  
  


“Yes,” Maya’s voice trails on through each letter, emphasizing the single word for four very long seconds. Maya and Hope make eye contact. The unsettling look on the blue-eyed girl’s face appears to bring a change in Maya right away. She nods, a sad look taking over her face before another smile sets.

  
  


For a second, Hope’s friend panics to come up with something—something other than the secret.

  
  


She scratches at her throat.

  
  


“I heard...you eat chocolate with vegetables.”

  
  


Lizzie starts to pout, surely disappointed. She chuckles in Maya’s face, “That’s it? You’re pathetic. You guys obviously don’t know what secrets are.”

  
  


Hope sighs loudly—taking in a large breath. She notices Sam’s hand on her shoulder. Has it been there all this time?

  
  


Maya moves to speak but Lizzie waves her off—the look on Maya’s face shows she’s obviously thinking of a better secret to tell now. The blonde twin crosses her arms, looking towards her own sister.

  
  


“—But seriously Jo? Why didn’t you tell me? We have to get you off of that right now.”

  
  


Josie plays along, though it looks like the words cause her to gag. She swallows it down, “What? It’s not even bad. You really have to try it.”

  
  


Hope smiles slightly at the grimace on the brunette’s face, but can’t stop the nagging feeling from reaching her chest. She probably has to apologize to the brunette a thousand times. Well, she probably has to apologize to _both_ brunettes. Maya owes her an apology first, though.

  
  


“That’s…disgusting,” Lizzie picks up her phone, and looks something up. She pulls her sister close to her and starts to read off food-alternatives. Maya walks away from the pair as Penelope stands beside Josie. Milton also joins in with the group. Soon enough, Lizzie falls back on Sebastian’s lap.

  
  


The storm ends. But the calm isn’t so calm.

  
  


Maya walks quickly, headed towards the house door. After watching Josie and Penelope for a second, Hope makes a quick decision to follow after her best friend. It’s the first time she’s ever been the one to initiate a conversation after a fight. She wonders if that’s the reason that they’re fighting in the first place.

  
  


She finally catches up to Maya and grabs her from behind. The girl shoves her off and continues to walk to the front of the house as Hope has a hard time dodging the countless number of bodies that continuously bump into her. It makes it really hard to get to Maya. After a second, Hope loses sight of the girl completely.

  
  


She looks around, twirling into a full circle before she catches sight of distinguishable brown hair.

  
  


She sets off again as Maya pushes through the front door and onto the lawn, already starting to walk down the sidewalk of the neighborhood. Hope catches up, getting in front of the girl.

  
  


Maya’s eyes don’t meet her own.

  
  


“Get away from me.”

  
  


“What’s wrong with you?!” Hope yells, pulling the girl back by the arm. They meet face to face and Hope steps back due to the expression on Maya’s face.

  
  


Tears fall from the girl’s eyes and her face is flushed and red, her eyes burning with anger. It scares Hope. She’s never seen her friend this...broken. Hope even refrains from calling Maya a friend at the moment. How can Hope be a friend when she couldn’t even notice Maya becoming like this?

  
  


She feels so oblivious and confused right now. Maybe Josie had been right when she first called Hope oblivious a few weeks ago.

  
  


“You’re what’s wrong with me,” Maya yells back, shrugging the girl off once again. Despite the tears, her voice doesn’t waver. She sniffs once.

  
  


Twice.

  
  


On the third time, she turns back. The movement is fast and sends Hope stepping backwards in surprise once more. Maya crosses her arms, her tears rolling down her face slower than before—if just to get Hope to _see_. 

  
  


Hope turns speechless.

  
  


“You all don’t appreciate me.”

  
  


“That’s ridiculous,” Hope shakes her head, “We love you.”

  
  


“Yeah,” Maya scowls, “But you don’t appreciate me. None of you do.”

  
  


Hope shakes her head at the girl, unable to communicate with words. 

  
  


Dumbfounded. 

  
  


“How?” Her eyebrows furrow and, for some reason, she yearns to reach out to her friend. It’s something she’s never felt before. She wants to give Maya comfort—she wants comfort herself.

  
  


In return, Maya laughs darkly. It’s so confounding, that Hope shifts in her spot. Her eyes glaze to the floor and the gray-pavement forces her to look back up.

  
  


Uncomfortable.

  
  


“You don’t even see it,” Maya smiles falsely. “I listen and listen and _listen_ to you. Even when you don’t say anything. Even when you don’t tell me anything. But you never once give me the time of day. You never ask what _I’m_ thinking. You don’t check up on me. I check up on you all of the time. Even when it’s not what you want, but I know it’s what you need.”

  
  


Hope feels her own breath shorten. Her blood settles coldly in her veins.

  
  


Maya laughs once again, but this time it’s more melancholic than anything else. It’s a classical song—perhaps an Irma Thomas piece or maybe Kitty Kallen. “You don’t act like you care for me. And it’s not just you. It’s Sam, Seb, and even m-my own brother. You’re all too busy in your own lives and I’m always here for all of you. Cleaning up your messes. Helping you. B-but…I don’t have anyone. You only proved that when you seriously thought I was going to tell everyone about you and Josie. How could you think I would do that?”

  
  


Hope opens her mouth, but the words don’t come. It only makes Maya look even more disappointed in her. She tries not to be mad at the thought of Maya _testing_ her.

  
  


“See.” Her last laugh breaks Hope the most. She smiles once more, “I don’t have anyone.”

  
  


“God,” Hope mumbles, rubbing at her forehead. She can’t stop from repeating herself. There’s too much to say and she doesn’t know how to word it, “God. God. God.”

  
  


It’s so quiet that the universe can’t hear it.

  
  


“I was so caught up with...I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I’ll be better,” the blue-eyed girl says. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. You have me. You do. Even though I don’t show it. I’ll show it now. I’ll be better…”

  
  


Hope’s voice quiets further. It’s not enough. She doesn’t know what to say.

  
  


“—I’ll be better. I’ll do better. I’ll do more. I’m so sorry. I, uh, didn’t know I was hurting you.”

  
  


“You still are.”

  
  


It sounds blunt and a little humorous, but the tears on her face aren’t so funny.

  
  


“I don’t deserve you,” Hope sighs. She looks at Maya with great, troubled eyes, as though, in fact, her eyes would tell her the things she could otherwise never say. “You’re my best friend. I...I don’t know why—I didn’t think you cared about stuff like that.”

  
  


Maya sends her a withering look. Hope back-tracks. “I just didn’t think. I’m _not_ thinking. I’ll make it up to you. I—I promise. I know I can’t fix this now, but I’ll…”

  
  


She trails off once again. What can she say to fix all of this? What words will appease Maya? How could she ever attempt to make her feel better, to earn her forgiveness? 

  
  


Hope finishes how she started, “I’ll be better.”

  
  


“How? How can you be better? What does that even mean, Hope? I feel so...lonely. Everyone has everyone else. I have no one.” The words ring false in Hope’s head.

  
  


That’s not true. That’s not true.

  
  


“Stop saying that,” Hope shakes her head. “You’re literally the person that glues the group together. We won’t be able to do...well, anything...without you. Even with how cringey that sounds, trust me, it’s true.”

  
  


Maya doesn’t look so convinced. At this point, Hope knows she just needs to be reassured. Everyone, once in a while, needs to be reassured. It’s humanity bracing the world’s emotions on a silver platter every few months for every single person. That's the thing about the world—how it needs constant reassurance. Just simply being isn't enough. It's not, by a big margin, enough.

  
  


So, Hope spends the next half-hour reassuring her. She tells herself it’s for Maya, but it’s a little for Hope, too. She tells the other girl all about how much she means to Hope, how much she means to everyone. She hugs Maya and holds her until her tears dry out. They don't really hug normally, not like quoted best friends or sisters would do. But today isn't a normal day at all. Far from it.

  
  


And later, when Maya tells Hope that she feels better and she’s okay—no longer upset or angry anymore—Hope can finally look her in the eyes and believe her.

  
  


—

  
  


For the rest of the party, a great block of ice settles itself into Hope’s stomach. Though she feels good about her relationship with Maya, something else begs to bother her. The ice melts far in her gut slowly, for what feels like almost all night long. It sends trickles of ice water up and down her veins, and it never lessens or shows mercy. 

  
  


It never loses feeling. Sometimes, with a single glance from Josie, it hardens and then feels as if it’ll explode in her chest. It makes her feel like she’s about to choke or scream. She tries to focus on other things—not the infatuating brunette standing outside—and listens to the laughter of the party.

  
  


Zeroing in on it, she lets out a breath she’s been holding since she walked in. She wonders how it calms her. It’s maybe just that she’s able to focus on something else. After a few seconds, the laughter turns mocking into her own ears—why can’t she ever just have fun and laugh, too?—and she decides she needs a change.

  
  


She still hasn’t seen Josie for a while. The girl had disappeared somewhere ten minutes ago.

  
  


“I’m gonna go outside,” Hope tells Maya, “I need some air.”

  
  


Maya doesn’t really respond, only giving a thumbs-up and proceeding to chug down her bottle in a competition between this frat boy from another school. She, obviously, wins.

  
  


She heads to the backyard and through the fence into the woody area. It almost looks like a forest, but the trees only spread out for a few hundred yards before another fence comes. It reminds Hope just how big this backyard really is.

  
  


The cold air is so, so refreshing. Hope’s never been one for parties and being by herself feels nice for a change. Though, she’d much rather spend time with Josie.

She steps deeper and deeper into the small forest, so much further that she starts to hear that cricket sound which usually accompanies silence. It's supposed to be creepy, but right now it's only comforting. Strangely.

  
  


As she looks around, everything starts to remind her of Josie. She hates it. When can she ever just stop thinking of the girl? She likes where they’re at, but now she’s becoming unfocused—all the freaking time. Is love always this...consuming?

  
  


Fuck. Did Hope just say love?

  
  


As she steps around a tree trunk, someone behind her immediately pulls her against it, trapping the girl. Hope lets out the loudest fucking scream on the planet, but her mouth is muted by a hand over her lips. Her eyes remained closed, too scared to even bring them open.

  
  


She rustles against the person, but as soon as she smells _that_ scent, she freezes instantly.

  
  


Her eyes open the same.

  
  


“Stop. Stop. Stop,” Josie whispers against her, finally putting an end to the blue-eyed girl’s shouts. They somehow still carried on even after she recognized the person as Josie, as though her vocal cords didn’t get the message from the rest of her body. Josie’s body starts vibrating against Hope’s own, and Hope pulls away for a second to find the girl laughing.

  
  


She shoves Josie away, a little pissed off at the girl as she continues to giggle.

  
  


Josie stops laughing just to make a snide remark.

  
  


“Really? If I was a serial killer, were you just going to _let_ me kill you?”

  
  


“That’s not fair,” Hope mumbles, stepping back farther away from her. She crosses her arms, “I screamed.”

  
  


“Did anyone come to save you?” Josie pouts, throwing the girl a look. Hope turns away, and Josie follows after her. “I mean, seriously, though. You need to start paying attention to your surroundings. This is like the hundredth time I’ve gotten you.”

  
  


Well, it’s the second time. But Hope won’t correct her.

  
  


“You sound like you care,” Hope says underneath her breath, her heart still beating fast from being scared shitless. It’s also beating for a completely different reason.

  
  


She’s sort of—okay, really, really—enraptured by the sound of Josie’s voice. Josie sounds scared for her, sounds protective, she sounds caring.

  
  


Hope doesn’t get far. After she takes her first step away, she’s pulled back by her arm and dragged against a different tree trunk once again. 

  
  


“I do.”

  
  


Brown. Brown. Brown.

  
  


Josie’s eyes light up so earthly. Just for Hope. She seems so sincere and it’s the first time they’ve really locked eyes the whole night. Hope can barely breathe, she doesn’t want to take this moment for granted by inhaling. No. She just wants to _be_.

  
  


Her throat combusts and she tears her eyes away.

  
  


Josie connects one of their hands, intertwining it with Hope’s, “What are you doing out here alone?”

  
  


“I needed some space,” Hope whispers, trying not to make it sound wrong. It comes out bad enough, though. Josie’s eyes dart up and then down, her eyes glazed over in something likened to pain.

  
  


It’s familiar to Hope herself, but not so much on the brunette herself who's only ever been either angry or happy with Hope.

  
  


“Oh.”

  
  


Their connected hands drop. Hope’s hand suddenly feels like a ten-pound rock. It drops down painfully thick.

  
  


Josie steps back again. Hope instantly misses the warmth and her scent. She wonders how Josie can be so warm when she’s wearing something so...indecent. Josie’s frown deepens.

  
  


“—Then I should leave you be. I’m sorry. I-I didn’t know.”

  
Josie sounds insecure. She doesn’t sound like herself. It’s so weird.

  
  


“Stop it,” Hope shakes her head. How can the brunette not know that the only person Hope wants to spend time with is her? Hope walks next to her, side-by-side. “That’s not how I meant it.”

  
  


“I just...I got distracted and I was just trying to clear my head,” she points out, hoping it’ll placate the expression on her roommate’s face. 

  
  


It does.

  
  


“By what?” Josie asks. They stand face-to-face now. They’re so close that they almost breathe against each other, the cold from outside turning their breaths into fog. The conversation pulls into an earnest direction and Hope would be lying if she didn’t think about running far, far away.

  
  


“What made you distracted?”

  
  


_My parents._

  
  


_Maya._

  
  


_You._

  
  


“You,” she decides on her last thought, having an idea to kiss the girl. The kiss on the cheek a few hours ago wasn’t enough. Nothing is enough anymore. Nothing compels her more than what she feels at this very instant—the most magnifying need to hug Josie. Or kiss her. Either works.

  
  


“How?” Josie smiles shyly and Hope wonders how the brunette hasn’t burst into laughter yet. Usually when Hope starts being...charming...Josie starts to giggle like a second-grader.

  
  


God. Josie doesn’t even know how much Hope thinks about her. The auburn-haired girl guesses now would be the best time to tell her. She needs to start showing her emotions more. She can’t keep going on like this—her tongue burning with words as she continuously has to put out the fire. She continuously forces herself not to speak, not to voice anything. It's what kept her comfortable a few months ago, but now it's of no use.

  
  


“I was thinking of you. I think about you a lot.”

  
  


She feels like this is them confessing that they like each other all over again, but this time it’s different. It feels magnified by a hundred-thousand times, the world is much bigger now.

  
  


She tries not to regret her words. Josie doesn’t give her a second to think about doing so.

  
  


“Really?” Josie sighs. It’s in relief. Thinking about people—loved ones, the person of one’s infatuations—is tiring nowadays. Sometimes, one thinks too much of a person, fixating all their time on different moments, allowing one’s brain to think of all the different scenarios.

  
  


Thoughts.

  
  


They’re, mostly, unrequited. 

  
  


To spend so much energy...thinking, thinking, thinking. About one person.

  
  


It’s a relief to know someone just might think about someone else, too—that those two people don’t solely go crazy, that they _do_ think about one another.

  
  


Josie’s smile disappears, though it’s somehow even more welcoming now. She’s fully serious.

  
  


“Because...I think about you all the time.”

  
  


Hope suddenly feels that same relief. She feels it hug the top of her shoulders, drown her ears in pleasure, take her heart for a spin and never come back.

  
  


It’s different from realizing Josie had liked her back.

  
  


It’s not just _liking_. No.

  
  


It’s knowing that she’s stuck in Josie’s mind as much as Josie is stuck in hers.

  
  


It’s…

  
  


—Requited.

  
  


Josie sucks her bottom lip in between her teeth, in that same way she always does when she wants Hope to kiss her. All of a sudden, Hope feels shy. She can’t possibly know the reason for it.

  
  


They’ve kissed plenty of times. Well...they’ve done a lot more than just that.

  
  


_Why_ is this so different?

  
  


Why is _this_ so different?

  
  


Why is this so _different_?

  
  


Hope shivers against the cold air and it spells a rush of adrenaline through her.

  
  


She leans in slightly, the inch closer to Josie sending another rush of adrenaline, though this time she’s warmer. She’s on fire. Burning.

  
  


Josie closes her eyes. Hope’s own start to feel heavy. She hesitates.

  
  


“Is it okay if I—”

  
  


“Mhm.”  
  


It feels like their first kiss all over again.

  
  


—

  
  


“Why were you so upset earlier?” Hope asks, twenty minutes after they’ve stopped making out. Her lips physically hurt to speak, but she can’t help the question. Josie’s upset face from a few hours ago still lingers like a tattoo etched across her forehead.

  
  


“What do you mean?” Josie’s face scrunches up.

  
  


“Before you left for Lizzie’s. You looked—I don’t know,” Hope stares at the dirt in the backyard. She wonders how long they’ll have until she will have to go back to her friends, and Josie to hers.

  
  


“Oh, um,” Josie freezes. Something sad glazes her face again and Hope almost regrets bringing it up.

  
  


Then, her roommate continues. 

  
  


“My dad. He called me.”

  
  


Oh. Shit. An arsenal of curse words start erupting in Hope’s thoughts and she tries not to show how panicked she feels. It wouldn’t be very helpful to the evident stress on Josie’s own face.

  
  


Josie seems to pick up on it, however.

  
  


“Wait—No! NO. He doesn’t know! It wasn’t about that.” She says, shaking her head at the idea, acting as if him finding out is a percentage close to zero.

  
  


“Oh, okay,” Hope sighs, her exhale coming out just a little breathy. “Then what happened?”

  
  


A beat of silence passes and then Josie whispers:

  
  


“He said I had to quit my job.”

  
  


Josie frowns and for a second she laughs blankly, darkly. It’s such a foreign sound that it cuts Hope’s heart out in halves and suddenly she’s reaching out, grabbing onto Josie’s hand.

  
  


Josie sighs, hesitating the slightest to offer an explanation. 

  
  


She pulls away from Hope, disconnecting their hands. Hope tries not to dwell on it. Not when Josie is obviously having a hard time right now. The brunette looks away, her voice breaking on the first word,“S-so I could focus more on—”

  
  


She turns mocking, obviously trying to take on her own father’s tone, “...What I really wanted for my future.” She shakes her head, “His words exactly.”

  
  


“What’d you say?” Hope asks, trying to get the girl to face her again. Josie doesn’t budge. Is she crying?

  
  


“That he didn’t know what was good for me or what I _needed_ for my future. God, like he ever has a clue,”she bites her lip and Hope wonders if she’s even told Lizzie about all this—how Josie doesn’t care to take over much of anything that has to do with her parents. 

  
  


“Was he upset?” 

  
  


She tries to connect their hands again—it takes the courage of a thousand hungry lions—and this time Josie doesn’t pull away from her. This time she doesn't starve.

  
  


“Probably. Of course. Or—I don’t know,” she shrugs finally, “I didn't get his reaction. I hung up.”

  
  


“Oh,” Hope breathes. A beat passes. She finds herself getting angrier by the second. “I can kill him for you if you want.” 

  
  


“Stop,” Josie hits her across the shoulder lightly, a small smile playing on her face. “Be serious.”

  
  


“I’m _completely_ serious,” Hope tilts her head to the side, sort of confused. Was there a smile on her face or something? She thought she looked serious enough. She thinks it’s best to take the topic off of Alaric. She sighs, “What do you want to do in the future?”

  
  


“I told you before. I don’t know,” Josie shyly says, but her frustration doesn’t diminish. Maybe, she becomes even more frustrated.

  
  


“Well...what do you want to see happen? Out of all of this.” Hope says, trailing slightly in front of the brunette while the two walk back toward the party. Hope even starts to hear the music again. The moon seems to only be getting lighter.

  
  


Hope doesn’t mean it to, but the topic inevitably comes back to Josie’s father.

  
  


“I just want him...accepting me. No matter what I want to do,” she scoffs, incredulous at the idea of him possibly being able to accept her and let her do whatever she wants. 

  
  


Hope doesn’t understand why she cares so much about her father’s acceptance. Is it a family tie? Is it fear? Is it...shame? Josie deserves more. She deserves the sun, the moon, and everything in between.

  
  


Not this.

  
  


They reach the first fence closer towards the backyard. Hope doesn’t like it. She wants to take Josie and run far, far, far away. Maybe they can discreetly head back to their own dorm room.

  
  


“I know this probably won’t help. But, maybe, think and make a plan of some other options and careers you want to do. If you find that you’re, I don’t know, passionate about something, present it to him,” as Hope’s words go on, she finds herself less confident in what she’s saying. She doesn’t truly think it’ll help Josie’s situation. She just really wants to comfort the girl—Josie has looked troubled the whole night.

  
  


“When I was younger, if my parents ever shot something down, I did a whole power-point presentation to get them to agree on something. Like Maya’s birthday sleepover when we were twelve,” Hope says, her chest exploding with slight hesitation. Why is she talking so much? She should be listening to Josie. “Okay, that was a bad comparison. But, you get it?”

  
  


Hope turns to look at the girl when she gets no answer.

  
  


Josie appears to be zoned out, staring straight down at her face, and Hope’s face flushes red instantly. Had the brunette been staring at her all this time? The flush spreads to her neck and she feels hot.

  
  


Too hot. She feels like she’s burning, but the temperature outside can’t possibly be higher than sixty-degrees.

  
  


“Uh? Josie?”

  
  


“Sorry,” Josie blinks once, “I’ve just never heard your voice so much—I’ve never heard you talk so much. It’s...cute. You’re cute.”

  
  


Hope’s cheeks blush redder than before. Her heart starts to beat at an unsteady rate and she looks away from Josie just so she can calm herself. What’s happening?

  
  


Thankfully, Josie fills the silence. “And I understand what you’re saying, but he still won’t listen probably. He never listens. It doesn’t matter if I prepare a whole-ass presentation.”

  
  


Hope nods. It was expected. “I know. It just doesn’t hurt to try. And even if he doesn’t care, you can always tell me.”

  
  


The auburn-haired girl grin grows, and her voice somewhat lowers, “ _And_ you can always present to me.”

  
  


Josie rolls her eyes, “I _swear_ you have some sort of schoolgirl kink.”

  
  


—

  
  


They are about to part ways when Hope gets pulled back at the last second. There has been way too much pulling today. Back and forth.

  
  


“Wait.”

  
  


They’re inches away from each other and Hope distantly wonders if anyone can see them. She doubts anyone is paying attention to them.

  
  


“Do you want something?” Hope smiles playfully, raising her eyebrow and ready to kiss the girl again. Josie nods, and Hope starts to slowly lean in when the brunette pushes her away.

  
  


“No. Not that,” Josie shakes her head and Hope sighs in return, embarrassed _and_ frustrated. She huffs and crosses her arms, stepping an effective distance away from the brunette. Josie continues, despite Hope’s obvious humiliation. “What was up with Maya earlier? What was she doing?”

  
  


“Nothing,” Hope says, trying not to bring too much attention to it. She doesn’t want Josie to get mad at her or Maya. Josie throws her a look and Hope breaks after a second. “Fine. She got upset at me, so she thought it’d be funny to mess with us. But she wasn’t going to do anything—like tell anyone. She’d never.”

  
  


“Wait. Maya knows?” Josie frowns, biting her lip. Hope stares and then snaps out of it.

  
  


“No. Not really,” Hope says, not bothering to explain. It’s complicated and she’ll eventually get to it later. “Don’t worry about it.”

  
  


“Okay…” Josie trails off reluctantly, but it also seems like she doesn’t care too much about it since she’s not asking questions or continuing further. Silence passes them again—like it always seems to do. Hope stands there and then she steps away, knowing it’s probably time to get back to her friends—who are absolutely very, very drunk.

  
  


Hope doesn’t think she’s sipped on a drink since she’s got here. Other than when Maya was making a scene and the cup in her hand shook, simply wanting to be tasted.

  
  


“Bye,” Hope whispers, her eyes twinkling in the night. They don’t dim once and her eyes captivate light like the moon does. A star falls from her eyelid and another one follows and soon she’s looking up to meet Josie’s dark ones.

  
  


Her eyes always seem darker in the nighttime, even with the white light from the moon. Hope wonders if it’s the dark sky calling out to Josie so they can be twins, she wonders if it’s magic and spells and power that allow them to stay dark enough.

  
  


Josie’s eyes are always changing—dark, then light, then dark, then light. They change as the day goes on, much like any clock or climate. Hope knows it happens to everyone. Eyes adapt to the light.

  
  


But Josie’s are the only ones that have captivated her.

  
  


“Wait.”

  
  


“What?” Hope mumbles, irritated at not getting a kiss the first time. Feigned annoyance only proceeds the next sentence, “Is there anything else you need to know?”

  
  


“Wow. So grumpy,” Josie pouts, the space around her eyes crinkling as she smiles. “But no.”

  
  


She steps closer to Hope and, in real time, it’s fast—no matter how much Hope wills time to slow. She’s an inch away in no time, drawing Hope to look at her. Josie’s lips plant a chaste kiss across her cheek and a second one along her jawline. It’s so light that Hope barely feels it, and she even leans into Josie to feel it _more_.

  
  


She relishes in it, memorizing it. Memory is all she has.

  
  


Then Josie’s lips are gone and she steps away. Hope’s eyes shoot open. The brunette turns her back on Hope, and the blue-eyed girl spins her back around without a moment’s thought.

  
  


“Really?” Hope pointedly looks up at Josie.

  
  


Josie’s eyes dart down playfully, a smile ghosting her lips, and when she looks back up, Hope is leaning in and capturing her lips quickly. Her hands attach to Josie’s waist and the brunette falls into Hope. After restraining herself, Hope backs away, containing her desire to continue to kiss the brunette. They can’t take too many chances.

  
  


“I hate you,” Josie breathes, eyeing Hope with the same, familiar desire.

  
  


Hope smiles, already turning away to walk back to her friends. Her heart drops lower and lower to the ground with each step she takes away from Josie.

  
  


“You love me,” Hope says, her back turned completely, awkwardly waving over her shoulder.

  
  


She faintly hears Josie laughing behind her.

  
  


She doesn’t regret saying it one bit.

  
  


—

  
  


As Hope heads back through the patio-door, she’s immediately met with Maya and Sam, who are incredibly shit-faced.

  
  


“Where were you, Hope?” Sam slurs, drawing her arm over Hope’s shoulder. She hangs on for dear life. “You should’ve seen it. Maya beat _every_ boy in this room.”

  
  


“Doing what?” Hope eyes Maya in the corner, pathetically laughing to herself. No one is near her.

  
  


“Chugging, duh. You dummy,” Sam tries to poke Hope in the chest and misses by a mile.

  
  


“We should get going.” Hope says, dragging the girl with her to get Maya, who is a few feet away. She gets a few water bottles and hands Maya one.

  
  


“Ooo. What is this?” Maya asks, though the label is quite clear. She probably can’t read, either, right now. Hope is glad that Sam isn’t as bad.

  
  


“Vodka,” Hope lies through her teeth, watching as Maya starts to drink it in slow sips.

  
  


Good.

  
  


“This is _so_ good!” Maya shouts, and starts to offer the vodka—water bottle—to people around them. Hope apologizes to every single person and then finally tugs on Maya’s hand, holding it hostage. 

  
  


“Where’s Ethan and Sebastian?” Hope shouts over the music to Sam, who is dealing significantly better than Maya. Maya should have a way-bigger tolerance, oh so she brags about. Hope is _also_ glad that Sam can take alcohol better. 

  
  


“Who’s Ethan and Sebastian?” Sam asks. 

  
  


Nevermind.

  
  


Hope frowns. What? Shouldn’t she at least remember Ethan? Aren’t they secretly fucking or something?

  
  


Wait…

  
  


Are Maya and Sam playing with her? Usually, they do a much better job at acting.

  
  


“Um,” Hope looks around the room, trying to find either one of the boys. She can’t find Lizzie, so that’s a dead give-away. After a while of looking around, she decides to just stop. It’s only two hours into the party, she should just relax.

  
  


They don’t have to leave yet. Maya and Sam just need to calm down.

  
  


She moves over to the kitchen area and as soon as she rounds the corner, mindlessly keeping her eyes on the ground, she bumps heads with someone else.

  
  


Her hand instantly comes up to rub her forehead and she hears an apology fall from familiar lips.

  
  


“Oh my god, I’m so sorry—Oh.”

  
  


Hope looks up, and groans instantly—the sound not coming from the pain at all. Why does she always have such bad luck? 

  
  


It’s the girl from the tailgate. The one she made out with. The one that gave Hope her number.

  
  


Hope instantly thinks about leaving and pretending that she’s too drunk to see straight or something, but the other girl obviously recognizes her. Her eyes flash in recognition and she gives Hope a smile. 

  
  


“Hey,” Hope ends up saying, her voice near squeaking. She clears it and discreetly looks around at her surroundings for a savior—Maya, Sam. Where the hell did they go? She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling herself start to sweat in a not-so-good way, “How have you been…?” 

  
  


Hope trails off. What the fuck was her name again?

  
  


Hope is pretty sure she deleted her contact and didn’t even bother to remember the name on it when the girl had entered her number in the first place.

  
  


“Great,” the girl enthusiastically says, her eyes glued to Hope’s. Hope feels herself shrink down in discomfort. She needs to find an escape, fast. “You still have my number? Did you forget to call?”

  
  


“Sorry, I’ve just been so...busy,” Hope leans her hand against the wall, trying to think of some better excuse. It doesn’t come. 

  
  


“You’re fine,” the girl says, and Hope kind of feels bad. She shouldn’t lie. She shouldn’t. Hope almost spasms off the wall when the girl overlaps Hope’s hand with hers.

  
  


Why did Hope ever kiss her again? Oh, right. She was desperate, upset, angry, feeling terrible, and jealous.

  
  


Did Hope mention desperate?

  
  


Hope backs away slightly and the girl seems to only follow. “Remember what we did?” She says slowly, trying to come off as seductive but it just further makes Hope uncomfortable. It’s not attractive. “I’ve been thinking about it.” 

  
  


“You h-have?” Hope clears her throat and suddenly her eyes dart in a different direction. She looks past the girl’s shoulder and an all-too familiar figure appears in the spot behind her. 

  
  


Josie.

  
  


Josie and her lock eyes, and Hope stands nearly pinned to her spot as the brunette stares her down, with an expression that Hope can’t begin to interpret on her own. Her heart races in her chest as those intense brown eyes bore into hers, Josie’s slightly narrowed eyes only providing a glimpse of emotion.

  
  


An emotion flashes across her face but it goes away too quickly—the room is too damn dark, the distance between them won’t allow it.

  
  


“Yes.” The girl in front of Hope says. She leans closer to Hope and tries to touch the blue-eyed girl again. Hope only has an ounce more of control before she flinches again. “Do you want to, I don’t know, go upstairs?”

  
  


Hope tries her best to fall through the wall, to disappear in thin air, to fake pass-out. Fuck, she can’t entertain this any longer.

  
  


Why is Josie just standing there?

  
  


“No, I don’t. Thank you, though.” Hope chooses to say. Dread passes by her like waves and all of a sudden she’s drowning when Josie walks away, her face never once revealing. Hope, for the most part, hopes that the girl isn’t upset because Hope didn’t do anything. No. She didn’t.

  
  


But then again, she isn’t even sure if Josie had heard their conversation—if Josie had heard her say _no_.

  
  


Ultimately, she decides that Josie didn’t look upset so they’re fine. She probably was curious or something. Hope knows now not to jump to conclusions. They’ve done that too many times before.

  
  


It always has ended in fights.

  
  


Hope could barely hear her _old_ friend herself and she was only a foot away. She’ll fill Josie in later. 

  
  


The auburn-haired girl walks past her in leaps, bouncing through the crowd, and searching for brunette hair.

  
  


She finds Josie talking with Milton over near a separate lounge area. She freezes, unable to stop from looking at the girl. Josie looks utterly free talking casually with her friends. She looks happy and devastatingly pretty. It’s alluring and disastrous, and Hope stands in the middle of the room, caught and _dead_.

  
  


She soon catches Josie’s eye and her roommate sends her a small smile and a quick wink.

  
  


Just for her.

  
  


—

  
  


Hope makes it back to her dorm room at way, way, way past midnight. It’s been three hours since the party, yet Hope doesn’t feel tired at all. If anything, she has the energy of a five-year-old. She can’t stop smiling, she can’t stop moving, she can’t stop _doing_ things.

  
  


By the time she gets back to the room, the whole party is a blur—except for everything having to do with Josie. She can’t forget their time together. She can’t forget everything Josie had said, the ways Josie had looked at her.

  
  


When she first comes in, Josie isn’t in the room. Hope starts to tear her clothes off, heading into the bathroom. She desperately needs to take a shower. She has been out for the majority of the day.

  
  


She wraps a towel around her body, going back into the room to get some clothes before she takes a shower. She looks objectively—and quickly—through her drawers, trying to get back into the bathroom before Josie might come in. Josie’s friend group had left moments after Hope had left, as Sebastian was basically facetiming Lizzie the whole ride. Ethan had to take over driving—thankfully, completely sober.

  
  


She’s three minutes in her shower when she hears a knocking on the door. She freezes, turning off the faucet. “Who is it?”

  
  


“Can I join you?” Josie calls out, ignoring Hope’s question and jumping straight to the point. Her voice is teasing and playful and Hope can hear the smile ride across her face.

  
  


Hope shakes her head, trying to stop the overwhelming pop-up of images that start crossing her mind. It isn’t great that she’s in a damn shower—naked—and able to picture things so, so much better.

  
  


Stop. Stop. Stop. She can’t be a horny teenage boy.

  
  


She laughs, though it’s throaty, and turns the faucet back on without answering.

  
  


After she’s done, she takes a few minutes to clean up and then comes out, greeted by Josie right away. She looks like she’s been waiting, standing outside the door while holding her pajamas up in a ball. “Hey,” Josie says, pushing past her and going into the bathroom. She leaves the door open.

  
  


“Hey.”

  
  


“You smell good,” Josie comments and starts to lie her things down on the bathroom counter, taking off her makeup with wipes. It takes her only a minute.

  
  


“You don’t,” Hope lies, trying to get a reaction out of the girl, even though she hadn’t even smelled Josie to begin with. She steps away from the door’s eye-line, setting her bed up so she can sleep.

  
  


Josie pouts right away, “Shut up.”

  
  


The bathroom door shuts loudly.

  
  


About thirty whole minutes later, Hope becomes impatient. She wants to talk to Josie. Why is she taking so long in the shower? The water should surely be cold now.

  
  


When Josie finally comes through the door, she looks absolutely relaxed and her face is painted naturally, cleared up and almost sparkling. 

  
  


“What took you so long?” Hope frowns, tossing her phone onto her bed after mindlessly scrolling through it for an hour.

  
  


“You know,” Josie pointedly looks at her, a lewd look on her face. She then gestures at her hand, her eyebrows raising playfully. Hope freezes.

  
  


No way.

  
  


No way was Josie...doing that.

  
  


Hope didn’t even hear anything.

  
  


Josie starts to laugh. She dries her hair with her towel and then begins to brush it out, “I’m joking...I was bathing.”

  
  


“With what bath?” Hope wonders, knowing it’s not particularly comfortable to sit down in the sorry-excuse for a bath that the campus had given to each dorm.

  
  


“I improvised,” Josie shrugs. She goes back into the bathroom and comes out a second later.

  
  


Josie sits next to Hope on the auburn-haired girl’s bed, and Hope makes room for her so they can sit side-by-side. Josie hasn’t been in Hope’s bed since the nightmare. She almost wants to ask the girl to stay the night here. Would it be unfair to the both of them?

  
  


“So,” Josie says, voice deceptively casual, “Who was that girl you were talking to at the party?”

  
  


Hope stifles a laugh.

  
  


She sends an amused look to Josie, who only shyly glances away. She pauses awkwardly, “It was just the girl from the tailgate.”

  
  


“The one you _kissed_ , right?” Josie says and the small down-turn of her lips tells Hope all she needs to know. Josie is upset about it.

  
  


“Honestly, I can’t remember,” she mumbles, a slight smile on her face. She lifts her shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. She doesn’t care one-twentieth of a pound about that girl. “I don’t even know her name.”

  
  


“Oh, please,” Josie huffs, “She was all over you.”

  
  


Hope rolls her eyes. This is like every Disney movie ever.

  
  


“Stop being jealous,” Hope shakes her head, smirking at the frown on Josie’s face. Her brown eyes are darker than before. Their eyes meet and Hope thinks she’s making Josie more mad by being so playful about it, “It’s hot but still.”

  
  


“I’m not,” Josie’s frown deepens and she crosses her arms, hugging her elbows. She turns away from Hope, moving her feet over the side of the bed and stepping out. Hope yanks her back, dragging Josie right on top of her. Their bodies press flush against each other and for a second their eyes meet. 

  
  


Another second passes. And then a third one. The world seems to come to a standstill around them, until all Hope can notice is the pretty blush to Josie’s cheeks and the full pout of her lips. She is suddenly much too attuned to the way the other girl’s breath puffs against her face, coming hot and shallow—much too aware of their chests brushing against each other every time they inhale and exhale.

  
  


She waits for Josie to close the distance, her heart in her throat, but she doesn’t move another inch and only stares back at Hope, as if she’s waiting, too. 

  
  


Then, Hope lunges upwards to meet Josie’s lips, tipping the girl’s head down to kiss her. Josie gasps in surprise against her mouth but recovers quickly enough to settle herself into Hope’s lap more firmly, her gasp turning into a contented sigh. Her hands slowly gravitate towards Hope’s waist, her fingers digging into the girl’s hips like a hot brand. Hope _burns._

  
  


Josie pins her to the bed with her lips, causing Hope to stay tight against the mattress, unable to move anything but her hands. The brunette’s excessive clothing—her pajama pants and pullover—limit Hope from being able to touch skin and she scratches desperately at Josie’s sweatshirt, pulling down on the fabric.

  
  


It bunches in her hand. She doesn’t even notice she’s pulling on Josie’s sweatshirt until her roommate’s hand overlaps hers, right near the area where their hips meet together. Josie intertwines her left with Hope’s right and all Hope can think is how much more warm she suddenly feels.

  
  


Hot, too. When did it get so boiling in here?

  
  


Josie’s teeth pull at Hope’s bottom lip, sucking the skin there into her mouth. Hope works hard not to react too much to it, struggling to stay quiet and not embarrass herself, but a groan of desire tears itself out of her throat before she can swallow it down. Josie smiles against her lips and she instantly regrets it. Damn it. 

  
  


Hope deepens the kiss, swiping her tongue along Josie’s bottom lip before pushing into her mouth. She tries really, really hard to get some dignity back. Yanking Josie on top of her seemed like a good plan. It isn’t such a good one now.

  
  


She cups Josie’s ass over her pajama pants and hums when Josie makes a slight, low sound. It sticks to Hope’s ears like glitter and falls out all the same. Something low unsettles her.

  
  


Hope’s hands start to wander when Josie gives permission and suddenly she starts to pull at everything—clothes aren’t enough anymore. She just wants them gone. 

  
  


After a minute of just kissing, Josie pulls away, staying straddled on top, and for a second Hope thinks that they are done.

  
  


That Josie has pulled away for the night and she’s done. That she’ll go back to her bed and they’ll go to sleep. It’s what usually happens. It’s almost three in the morning.

  
  


But, then a moment freezes time and Hope’s curiosity burns the thick, unbidden ice. Her eyelids slowly open when Josie doesn’t get off of her. When she’s finally able to blink away blurred vision and unfulfilled want—

  
  


Holy fuck.

  
  


In six seconds of time, Josie has taken off her sweatshirt and now all that covers her is a black-laced bra. Hope blinks—once, twice—and her eyes lower farther and farther, glimpsing everything that’s left uncovered.

  
  


“God. You’re so...pretty.”

  
  


Her hand travels flat against Josie’s stomach and for a second, she feels Josie shiver. No. She knows Josie shivers and her hips slightly cant up, lifting off of Hope and then back down. It’s obvious. Josie is just as turned on as Hope is.

  
  


She looks down at Hope with dark, desire-filled eyes. Hope’s throat vanishes and she tries helplessly to swallow down the feeling that digs at her gut. After a much too long moment of staring, Hope sits up to kiss Josie, more slowly than before. It’s an uncomfortable position, but she can find it in herself to care less.

  
  


Not when Josie is okay with being so...exposed with her. Sure, she’s seen more of Josie than this—the beach trip is a lasting memory—but this seems different. Intimate.

  
  


Hope takes the moment to switch their positions, adjusting so that she lies on top of Josie instead. Josie’s hair cascades down on the pillow and she looks very much like a princess—a swollen-lipped, topless princess.

  
  


Hope moves the brunette’s hair to the side, kissing down Josie’s neck and near her collarbone, obsessed with marking the new skin and touching it in any way possible. Josie’s eyes continuously fall shut at the sensation and her breathing shallows, groans and pants only reaching past her lips.

  
  


The auburn-haired girl pauses to look up at Josie, whose brows are creased together in a way that makes her look frustrated. Very, very frustrated.

  
  


She slips her hand on the underside of Josie’s bra, gripping there faintly. The reaction is instant. Josie’s eyes shoot open and they lock on to Hope, who only stares back and looks at the girl curiously.

  
  


This is new. New to them.

  
  


Josie pulls her in for another kiss, allowing Hope to grope underneath her bra firmer. She dances with the skin there, entranced by every single sound that comes out of Josie’s mouth. It only eggs her on.

  
  


After Josie starts to not really return the kiss, only heavily breathing against Hope, the auburn-haired girl pulls away and stops. She tries to clear her mind, but when Josie tilts her head at her, looking up from below in confusion at the abrupt stop—her lips bruised and pupils blown—it becomes hard.

  
  


Suddenly, she can’t seem to think anymore.

  
  


“Do you want to stop?” Hope asks breathily, trying to keep her voice even.

  
  


No, that’s not it.

  
She can’t seem to think at all, suddenly, when Josie says:

  
  


“No.”


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delay is everything the air burns.  
> -Enid Shomer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes they had sex. i'm just not writing it explicitly since i'm a minor and it makes me kinda uncomfortable. thank u :)

“Your boob is so comfy,” Josie whispers against Hope’s recently covered chest—she had just put her t-shirt back on. Fun fact about Hope Mikaelson: she doesn’t like going to sleep naked. She hates it. It makes her feel weird, and the comfort of her clothes is like no other. Josie is slightly laying on top of her, half-naked and still breathing a little heavily.

  
  


“Go to sleep,” Hope sighs, her eyelids heavy. Moments ago, she was just about ready to fall asleep. Needless to say...she’s tired. The brunette on top of her carries the energy of a thousand suns and Josie looks as lusty and spirited as when Hope first had dragged the brown-eyed girl near her.

  
  


Josie seems to get comfortable, her head lying straight on Hope’s shoulder after a moment. She hugs the auburn-haired girl’s side, her hand playing with Hope’s fingers absentmindedly. Hope tugs back, wanting to enclose what little distance is between them. Josie’s fingers start to dance across her stomach.

  
  


“What’s the point of going to sleep if the morning is like two hours away, anyway?”

  
  


“I don’t know,” Hope hums, but it doesn’t sound like she cares. She sighs once again, closing her eyes, “You figure that out.”

  
  


Tomorrow’s Friday. Well, today, though the sun hasn’t risen yet. But she has class.

  
  


Josie smirks. To Hope, she looks like all of the colors of the world and they all simultaneously bleed into happiness. Josie is her happiness. Hope doesn’t know what to think about that. It isn’t entirely healthy. She remembers her mother telling her something about not needing someone to be happy.

  
  


No.

  
  


It was something about _shouldn’t_ needing someone to be happy. She can’t think of the thought for any longer because Josie interrupts her thoughts once again.

  
  


“Are you usually like this _after_?” Josie asks, curiously, but danger leaks from her lips. Her tone is teasing. Completely teasing. A smile digs across her face and Hope _feels_ it.

  
  


The word _after_ technically means what they’ve done together—just about three times. Three ways.

  
  


Slow.

  
  


Rough.

  
  


_Rough_.

  
  


Hope pushes Josie off and turns to face her. They’re two sides of the same coin, flipped over and over again just to face each other for a split second.

  
  


“Like what?”

  
  


“So blunt or, like, rude,” she says, and Hope frowns right away. What? All she wanted was sleep. Her eyes shoot open. Because, no. She doesn’t want to be rude. At all. She was only joking. After a quick second of turning to look at Josie, she finds that the brunette isn’t serious.

  
  


“—Because it’s kind of a turn on,” Josie mumbles lowly, placing a kiss on what’s left exposed on Hope's collarbone. It’s light, but the _thereness_ is so compelling that Hope feels it like an electric shock.

  
  


Hope tries to think of a time where she’s ever felt so comfortable around someone. It reminds her of a certain movie she used to watch, but the title fails her and she’s left upset at not being able to remember.

  
  


Something about space?

  
  


Someone living in space?

  
  


She had watched it like three years ago.

  
  


Fuck.

  
  


A shallow smile plays on Hope’s face, and she eases back into Josie. Soon enough, it turns into a full-on smirk.

  
  


“Hmm,” her eyes narrow in on Josie’s lips, then their eyes meet. The auburn-haired girl suddenly isn’t so tired anymore. She licks her own lips unconsciously, “So...a few weeks ago. All that fighting between us...was _that_ turning you on?”

  
  


She doesn’t mean for her voice to drop so low. Josie’s hands fidget over Hope’s stomach, and it makes Hope realize how sensitive she feels. All over. She catches both of Josie’s hands, stilling their movement.

  
  


Josie nods, hugging Hope tighter on her side. She sounds playful and slightly whiny, “But I couldn’t do anything about it. I kind of hated that I had to share a room.”

  
  


The auburn-haired girl listening freezes.

  
  


“With you,” Josie adds a second after, as an afterthought. A blush forms across her face and Hope doesn’t know if she should consider it, “It doesn’t help that you’re here like all the time.”

  
  


Is Josie talking about…

  
  


—Touching herself? 

  
  


Hope gulps.

  
  


“I mean, I really just wanted to be alone so I could _feel_ better,” Josie’s smile drops, but the look on her face continues to eat at Hope, and Hope tries not to make a face, she tries not to do anything really. Hope herself hasn’t ever...done that. Sure, she’s thought about it.

  
  


She thinks about it all the time.

  
  


Because of Josie.

  
  


Hope can feel the blush form on her face. Why does she feel so embarrassed when they’ve literally just...fucked. She swallows, trying to think of something to say while Josie is looking at her like this. Like her eyes are literally ravaging Hope up and Hope can’t do nothing but just let her.

  
  


“You do?” She finally asks.

  
  


Josie regards her answer, then the area around her eyes crinkle. The brunette starts laughing, a full-on giggle. She pushes Hope away and Hope can’t help but drag her eyes down to Josie’s very, very naked front.

  
  


Hope sighs, though she wanted to hear more. Josie was joking?

  
  


She turns away, closing her eyes once again but only seeing images of Josie. Josie. Josie.

  
  


Is it not enough that she’s right next to the girl? Do her thoughts have to kill her as well?

  
  


After a moment of comfortable silence, Hope hears from the body beside her:

  
  


“I wasn’t kidding, though.”

  
  


Hope can’t help the laugh that falls from her own mouth and then she remembers the movie. It was a film about the space—the distance—between two lovers. One on Earth. One on Mars. The space between them was unnerving, yet still—

  
  


They managed.

  
  


She starts to think that the space between her and Josie. It has nothing to do with distance anymore. It’s all about time—seconds, minutes, hours, moments, forever—and as she listens to Josie talk about a fantasy novel she had just finished reading, Hope suddenly, with an aching, selfish desire, wants all of the moments with the girl in the world.

  
  


—

  
  


“Should we be doing this?” Hope glances towards the backseat of the car, where Josie had just jumped to from the passenger’s seat. Hope almost had gotten kicked in the face. Josie has really, really long legs, which is probably part of Hope’s temptation and dissolving resolve to stop whatever the hell they’re going right now. “You have work in, like, five minutes.”

  
  


Josie rolls her eyes.

  
  


“Finish me in two, then,” she remarks, pulling Hope into a desperate kiss when the girl finally joins her in the backseat of the car. 

  
  


Hope regrets—loves—dropping Josie off to work. Josie had asked her and Hope really couldn’t have said no. That’d be rude. Josie looks cute in her uniform, and her little cap only adds on to her attraction.

  
  


Their position is a little uncomfortable and soon enough, Josie straddles Hope, sitting on top of her lap. Hope’s hands stay on Josie’s waist, while the brunette continues pulling Hope back against the seat with only her mouth, not allowing the girl to go anywhere. It’s a little frustrating not being able to move.

  
  


It’s normal when Hope makes out with Josie, however. The auburn-haired girl notices that Josie _loves_ control, which kind of sucks when Hope does, too.

  
  


Sometimes.

  
  


Hope’s lips find her roommate’s neck and she begins to suck there, on her pulse point and then a little lower near her chest. She drags Josie’s shirt down, ruining it by wrinkling it into a bunch. Surprisingly—okay, not so much—Josie lets her, and the girl’s forehead lies on Hope’s shoulder, breathing slightly hard and letting Hope do whatever she wants.

  
  


Hope hums, leaning into the girl more. Attaching her lips more fervently.

  
  


Suddenly, Josie pulls away with something like panic. It seems as though she starts to actually think.

  
  


She pants, “Wait, I have work. You can’t do it there.”

  
  


She begins to rub at her neck, trying to vanish the already reddened and wet marks with her...hand.

  
  


“What are you, a fucking witch?” Hope frowns, unsure of how the hell Josie is trying to fix her _problem_. The dazed look on Josie’s face probably matches her own—flustered, pupils marginally blown—and in a second their eyes meet. Josie’s expression borders on hostility.

  
  


“Shut up,” Josie pouts and then shuts Hope up by kissing her, much like she always does. Hope leans to the side and starts to push the brunette back onto the seat, so they could lie down. She climbs on top of her roommate, kissing down to her neck for the hundredth time. 

  
  


Hope Mikaelson does _not_ appreciate the learning curve. Once again, Josie pushes her away.

  
  


Josie eyes the girl above her, sighing. “Do you not listen?”

  
  


Hope frowns.

  
  


“Can you stop talking?” The auburn-haired girl leans down, only so she can connect her lips with Josie once more. The brunette does have work in two minutes, or something close to that now.

  
  


Josie’s hand pushes on her shoulder, stopping Hope abruptly.

  
  


“Can you do something right?” Josie raises her eyebrow defiantly and Hope meets her with the same defiance. Neither of them says something for a full ten seconds.

  
  


Josie’s eyes seem to glow with electricity and Hope knows, in a second, she won’t win.

  
  


She’ll never win.

  
  


Josie slips her own shirt off in one quick, but uneasy, move. Hope’s eyes flash with something like desire and she tries to not think so much about herself. This is about getting Josie off…

  
  


A minute before she has to go into work. Josie throws Hope a look, gesturing down to her own body with her eyes. Her voice comes out just a little wounded.

  
  


“Do it lower.”

  
  


Hope won’t exactly argue and in a second, her lips press down to Josie’s abdomen. Delicate, but there with the intensity of a lightning bolt. In an instant, Josie’s hips cant up with that same fervor unexpectedly and Hope’s hands are there to force her back down. 

  
  


“Yeah,” Josie breathes, “ _There_.”

  
  


Hope’s kind of glad she’s so short. If she wasn’t so, her legs would probably be outside of the damn car with how low she is on Josie.

  
  


After a few moments of kissing lower and lower, she knows Josie is getting frustrated. She puts a hand on Hope’s head, in the girl’s hair, and pushes her down farther. The hand there tugs on Hope’s hair and plays with the light hair on the back of Hope’s neck.

  
  


Holy fuck.

  
  


Her head spins and she resists to stare at Josie’s face, whose complexion is only fit for a goddess, her lips only fit for red, her eyes open only to stare at Hope—only to be _compelled_ by Hope.

  
  


The Mikaelson heiress is so fucked. It’s a few minutes later that— _after_ —Josie runs off to work, looking thoroughly devoured, saying something along the lines of, “You aren’t dropping me off _ever_ again.”

  
  


She kisses Hope’s cheek and is gone.

  
  


It’s only then when Hope realizes how fucked she is. When she’s stuck looking at the girl until she’s completely absent from Hope’s vision. When she can still feel Josie’s kiss linger on her cheek with the lightness of a thousand clouds, but with the darkness of a million deaths.

  
  


She is so, so fucked.

  
  


—

  
  


It’s Monday morning after class when Hope decides that dark classrooms are oddly a good place to make out in. She doesn’t remember spending this much time with Josie. Ever.

  
  


“We should talk,” Hope mumbles against red lips, bruising them. Her head feels dizzy and she tries to pull away, only for Josie to follow her clumsily. Hope’s head hits the back wall of the lecture hall with a thud. She can’t even bother to feel the pain.

  
  


“About?” Josie murmurs distractedly, her hands stuck to Hope’s sides, effectively trapping her in.

  
  


“I don’t know...anything?” Hope’s eyelids shut when Josie’s lips venture lower, kissing her jaw. She clears her mind. Once. Twice. Then the thought is back again, “I don’t feel like we talk a lot.”

  
  


Okay. Maybe Hope hadn’t worded that correctly, because that’s all it takes for Josie to pull away. Her hands push against Hope’s shoulders, registering the words, and then she takes a step back. Her face rises upsetly, something half-indignant and half-sorrow. Hope regrets everything in a mere second. The warmth that comes from Josie now isn’t as near enthralling as it was a moment ago. Now, it feels like burning anger.

  
  


Josie shakes her head, fastly. She scoffs.

  
  


Hope frowns, “What?”

  
  


“I talk to you. All the time,” the brunette says, still shaking her head. She moves over towards a small desk, but doesn’t sit on it. She lingers, faced away from Hope as she crosses her arms tightly. “If anything, you never talk.”

  
  


Hope blinks, but her eyelids fail to shelter her from the utter indignant look on Josie’s flustered face. She tilts her head up at Josie’s tone, wondering if this is something the girl is actually serious about. She’s surprised to see that Josie’s anger doesn’t dissipate.

  
  


“That’s not true,” Hope huffs.

  
  


Josie throws her a shallow, pointed look.

  
  


“Okay, fine,” Hope admits, trying to step closer to the brunette. She shrugs, “It might be a little true. But I listen to you. Doesn’t that count for something?”

  
  


Hope turns soft, and if her voice cracks at the end of her sentence, she doesn’t acknowledge it, only clearing her throat so it doesn’t happen again.

  
  


Hope has been talking more—about everything and anything—to her friends, Maya especially. Although their conversations aren’t all that serious, she finds all of the laughing better than anything else. It feels like what she needs. Ethan’s jokes combined with Sam’s irritation with them, is something Hope can always depend on.

  
  


But, her and Josie’s conversations always interest her, too. Well, whatever Josie says is borderline interesting. It’s why she wanted to bring it up in the first place. She didn’t know that it was such a pathetic topic. They’ve been fine. Why is she messing it all up now?

  
  


Josie’s anger dissipates. Her eyes fall to the floor and she nods, “It counts.”

  
  


“—I’m...I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. You’ve been talking to me a lot lately,” Josie’s hand reaches out but then returns to her side. Hope doesn’t miss it. The brunette relaxes and something softens across her face, “I know how hard that is for you.”

  
  


Something in Hope wants to run, but her feet stay grounded to the carpet of the lecture hall.

  
  


Three words burn along her mouth, but she swallows them.

  
  


—

  
  


It’s the middle of the week when Hope’s aunt calls her.

  
  


“Hi, honey!” Freya yells through the speaker, and Hope pulls the phone from her ear just a little bit. Her face lights up nonetheless. She sits on the bench near the quad area—the one she always sits on. She had just finished her classes and she lowkey—highkey—wants to just run back to the room to see Josie.

  
  


The girl doesn’t have work tonight and they’re planning to watch a movie together.

  
  


“Hi, Aunt Freya,” Hope smiles. She wonders why she’s calling. They’ve already had their weekly call on Monday. “How are you?”

  
  


“Good, good. I’m with your uncle right now,” she says, then pauses, “How’s school? You’re keeping up right?”

  
  


Hope rolls her eyes, “Of course.”

  
  


“Okay, okay. That roommate of yours better not be—”

  
  


“Oh, God. Stop, please,” she flushes, and gives herself away. She knew she should’ve gone with a more neutral answer—something calmer. Better. Hope debates hanging up, if only out of sheer embarrassment. Every time Freya calls, she asks about Josie, which is really, really weird. 

  
  


She guesses Maya has been filling her in, but then again Maya only knows a little bit, too. Plus, Maya wouldn’t do anything like that. She regrets ever letting Maya and her aunt meet, however. Although there was really no stopping that. Maya was always over when they were younger. Constantly.

  
  


They were always dropped over at each other’s houses because of their parents and work responsibilities. Not in high school, though.

  
  


She still is amazed at how her and Maya basically grew up together. Sam, too, though that was a little later. 

  
  


_“It’s lonely, isn’t it?” A thirteen-year-old Maya asks Hope, as they sit in the large living room together. Alone. The nanny is upstairs, of course. Hope shyly smiles. This is the first time words flow into the silence between them. Usually, they’d do stuff or play on their computers separately._

  
  


_They never talked—words weren’t ever likely to accompany them._

  
  


_Mrs. Machado was just pulled into a meeting and brought Maya over. This was their kind of thing. Whenever their families got busy, they were dumped at each other’s houses. It has been that way for three years. Ever since their parents became co-workers at the firm._

  
  


_“Yes,” Hope says, and for some reason she feels her chest cave in as she speaks. She’s never felt like this before. A thirteen-year-old shouldn’t feel this way, she thinks._

  
  


_“Is it all of the time for you, too?” Maya asks sadly and puts down her schoolbag. Hope peers into it and finds that it’s near empty. The brunette in front of her hides it blatantly, catching Hope in the act. Her voice sounds so innocent, so small. It reminds Hope of...herself._

  
  


_“Yes,” Hope breathes out and looks around the room. Suddenly, the two girls feel too small in this huge room. Why are they in here, anyway? Downstairs is always so desolate. The auburn-haired girl finds Maya looking around as well, and for a second she feels they share the same thoughts._

  
  


_They share the same pain._

  
  


_“Do you know when your mom will be back?” Hope asks, but she tries not to sound rude. She doesn’t want to scare away one of her only friends. Plus, her mom had taught her about rudeness. Hope will forget all of it when she gets older. Grief does that._

  
  


_“I don’t know,” Maya mumbles, playing with the carpet on the ground._

  
  


_Hope hates that carpet. It isn’t soft. It feels like a rug. A ragged-rug._

  
  


_“Do you want to paint? I have some stuff in my room,” Hope asks shyly, like she always seems to be. It’s her main personality trait—shyness. She can’t remember learning it from either of her parents. Maybe being lonely does that to a person._

  
  


_“You paint?” Maya’s face lights up and a young Hope Mikaelson finds herself smiling as well. She gets up off the carpet—the one that feels like a rug—and waits till the girl next to her does the same. They run up the stairs, giggling like children._

  
  


Hope is pulled out of her thoughts.

  
  


“You can’t censor me like this all of the time, Hope,” Aunt Freya admonishes and Hope thinks she’s about to say more but she ends the thought there. Hope for one, is glad. That means no more talking about Josie. “I’ll talk to you when I see you, anyway.”

  
  


“What?” Hope asks, as a rush of panic shoots through her body. She replays the words in her head.

  
  


“Oh, shoot. I forgot to tell you,” Aunt Freya says, then laughs. Hope hears a smack and guesses it’s her aunt smacking herself across the forehead. “Oh wait. That’s why I was calling.”

  
  


Hope laughs, too.

  
  


“We’re at the firm in Manhattan, but we’re flying down right now. To see you,” she says and her voice seems nervous. Hope gets nervous as well. Why does her aunt sound like that?

  
  


“Why?” Hope mumbles and her voice constricts in her throat.

  
  


This reminds her too much of long ago—months ago—when she had just heard the news of the car accident. Freya and Elijah had told her.

  
  


Hope panics. This feeling is now too familiar to her.

  
  


“We need to talk.”

  
  


—

  
  


She tries to busy herself. Her aunt hadn’t explained herself fully. All the auburn-haired girl knows is that her uncle and aunt are landing in a few hours, but they’ll all talk in the morning. Hope, currently, is lying down next to Josie and they’re watching some movie about inheritance.

  
  


So fucking fitting.

  
  


But, Hope hasn’t been able to follow it. She’s thinking too much.

  
  


It doesn’t even register in her mind when Josie closes the laptop. She even shuts it hard, too. Hope stares into the new nothingness—the sheets of the bed where the laptop had once been. Josie turns to face her.

  
  


“Hope, what’s wrong?”

  
  


Hope frowns. She feels so unsure. “I don’t know.”

  
  


“Hope, is everything fine?” Josie asks again and that same warmth lines her words like glue.

  
  


“I think so,” she says, because there’s no real reason for her to panic. Just because her aunt didn’t say something doesn’t mean it’s bad. Right?

  
  


She explains it to Josie. She tells her everything about her family and finds herself asking that same question to the girl, just so she can feel better about it. “Right?”

  
  


“Right,” Josie confirms and it _does_ make the auburn-haired girl feel a little better. “Don’t always assume the worst. You shouldn’t. It isn’t—You shouldn't.”

  
  


She says the last part with so much finality that Hope stops thinking about it altogether. Those three words burn in her head again. It hurts not to say it.

  
  


“I—”

  
  


_I love you._

  
  


Josie’s head snaps towards her. Hope gulps. No. She can’t.

  
  


“—Uh, thank you.”

  
  


“For what?” Josie questions, a dazed smile across her face. She lies back down onto the mattress, her laptop sitting on top of her stomach. Hope pulls it off of her and turns it back on.

  
  


“Making me feel better,” she says, but her tongue screams to say something else.

  
  


_I love you._

  
  


Josie nods, but doesn’t say anything else. Hope likes it better that way.

  
  


“We can watch a different movie if you’d like,” Josie says as she types her password in. She pulls the movie back up, and waits to play it.

  
  


“No, this one is fine,” Hope says. Though, the situation that the main character is in kind of mirrors Hope’s own. Inheriting a business. She can’t remember who chose this movie. She grabs Josie’s hand to hold. It comforts her.

  
  


Josie glances towards Hope. It’s an expression Hope can’t decipher. She points to the character on the screen and sends another glance back to Hope, “She kind of reminds me of you.”

  
  


“How so?”

  
  


There’s a long period of silence and Josie looks up at the ceiling instead of the screen. Hope stares at Josie’s side-profile. Josie finally says something at last.

  
  


“She’s stuck.”

  
  


Hope glances back at the screen.

  
  


Their conversation returns heavily once again—like angry rain, falling so, so madly.

  
  


Hope gulps. The family business continues to feel heavier on her shoulders as her life goes on. Hope knows she doesn’t have to go right away once she graduates. But still, her fate is signed. She is expected to get her Masters. She can’t ever leave. She can’t tell Aunt Freya or Uncle Elijah that she doesn’t want to do this. It wouldn’t be fair. Not to her parents. Not to her _dead_ parents.

  
  


She’s really stuck. God. Why did she do this to herself?

  
  


Could she have not grown courage prior to their death? Has her life always felt this resolute? So...final.

  
  


She doesn’t even get a say! She’ll have to live the rest of her life out like this. A career so unfitting!

  
  


Why didn’t she tell her parents?

  
  


God. God. God. Why?

  
  


She should’ve told her parents before they passed.

  
  


She sighs. She couldn’t have known. She couldn’t have known at all.

  
  


Things happen. Bad things.

  
  


She couldn’t have known.

  
  


She looks Josie in the eye. Her throat feels on fire and the feeling starts to take her tongue. She swallows over and over again. It’s a horrible feeling—it’s brokered, the tears don’t ever come. They aren’t meant to come. It’s sadness that never reaches sound. Quiet.

  
  


Here, like this, she thinks she’ll stay silent forever.


	30. Chapter 30

It’s a little after midnight when Hope and Josie abandon their movie marathon. Hope makes a move to stand up, decidedly going to her own bed, when the brunette pulls her back. After a minute of moving the bed sheets around, the girls fall into a comfortable position—Josie lying slightly on Hope, her head rested on the auburn-haired girl’s shoulder.

  
  


Hope closes her eyes. Only blackness blinds her vision and she just now realizes how tired she is. Her thoughts have consumed her too much, much like they always do, and she’s seconds away from falling asleep when Josie moves away from her side.

  
  


The warmth running like water along her skin falls away. Her eyes remain closed when she complains to the girl beside her, “What are you doing?”

  
  


It’s not a complaint, not really. The words are a distant whisper in the comfortable silence and Hope pulls into Josie’s direction, her arm moving in search of the girl. She receives no answer. Moments later Hope realizes, by the push-and-pull lull of the bed sheets, that Josie has repositioned herself. She now sits criss-cross in front of Hope, only a few centimeters from where she was laying on the girl.

  
  


Her roommate intertwines their hands again. Hope sighs in relief. Josie has a habit of moving a lot while they sleep together, but she has never actually gotten up to sit...on a bed.

  
  


The brunette’s warm fingers etch invisible letters on Hope’s arm and Hope finds herself falling asleep once more. A smile paints her face at Josie’s gesture and it creates a feeling of security within her. She feels safe. Hope closes her eyes again.

  
  


Falling.

  
  


Falling.

  
  


Falling—

  
  


Josie loudly sighs.

  
  


At first, Hope doesn’t think much of it. Not the first time. Not the second time. Not the third time.

  
  


It’s only when Josie’s fingers start to become frantic along Hope’s arm does she speak—it’s more of a stabbing motion than something that could offer comfort. Hope pushes herself up off the pillow, but her eyes fail to open. Fuck. She’s so tired. She sits up, coming face-to-face with the girl who can’t seem to just go to sleep.

  
  


Hope sighs, “What’s wrong?”

  
  


Josie mumbles something incoherent, then says, “It’s nothing.”

  
  


Hope knows it’s anything but. It’s obvious—Josie’s voice isn’t even, she’s moving slightly back and forth. She’s sitting on a bed for fuck’s sake. Hope almost mutters something snide, something along the lines of _then let me go to sleep_ , but she doesn’t mean it. So she doesn’t say it.

  
  


She grabs Josie’s hand, rubbing circles along her palm, staying silent so Josie can fill up the space. The girl still doesn’t speak. Hope’s eyebrows furrow in concern. Does Josie want to talk about her father? Does she want to talk about her family? About work? School?

  
  


The auburn-haired girl takes Josie’s hand and it brings it up to her lips, kissing it chastely. She hears a sigh fall from Josie’s lips. It seems to reverberate through Hope’s entire body and she feels it like a spark just underneath her skin. How can that be? Hope lies back down, bringing Josie with her. She thinks it’s a good sign when the girl doesn’t resist.

  
  


She cuddles more into the brunette, resting her right hand on Josie’s hip, hugging her from behind. She rubs circles with her fingers there, too.

  
  


“Is something wrong?” Hope asks again, blinking any sleep out of her eyes. After a second, she’s wide awake. She can’t ever go to sleep knowing that Josie is upset. It’s impossible. Hope thinks back to the film they were watching. She knows it made herself upset—it was like looking in a mirror. Did it have the same effect on Josie?

  
  


_Josie glances towards Hope. It’s an expression Hope can’t decipher. She points to the character on the screen and sends another glance back to Hope, “She kind of reminds me of you.”_

  
  


_“How so?”_

  
  


_There’s a long period of silence and Josie looks up at the ceiling instead of the screen. Hope stares at Josie’s side-profile. Josie finally says something at last._

  
  


_“She’s stuck.”_

  
  


Hope frowns, “Was it the last movie? I know it was a little sad, but—”

  
  


“It’s not the movie.”

  
  


Hope’s frown deepens.

  
  


The fingers on Josie’s hip stop moving and Hope slowly pulls away, sitting up for the second time. She takes a breath, “What is it then?”

  
  


After a few seconds, Hope’s eyes accommodate to the darkness. Josie’s eyes are glued to the wall in front of them. Since the bed is moved towards the wall, Josie always is the one who gets to be closer to it. Her bed, her rules.

  
  


The silence stops. Josie’s eyes stay glued to the wall, like she doesn’t have the confidence to say the words to Hope’s face.

  
  


Hope dies in anticipation.

  
  


“When I first saw you,” the brunette starts softly. She swallows, and even in the darkness Hope can see the way her throat bobs. Josie seems to falter for a few seconds and then all of a sudden she’s talking again, as if some revelation can stop the time between seconds, “I felt like I’d been punched in the face.”

  
  


Hope narrows her eyes. She decides not to take it as an insult.

  
  


“I—”

  
  


Josie’s voice breaks. She starts over.

  
  


“After I met you and recognized who you were, I couldn’t tell the difference between what I was feeling. Sadness, anger, attraction. So, so many things,” the brunette says, still facing the wall. Courage fails for both the girls. Every time.

  
  


Hope listens, her ears endeared to the girl’s every word. Entranced.

  
  


“It took me so long to...r-recover,” Josie turns to lie on her back, looking up at the wall. For a second, Hope looks up there, too. She imagines stars and planets, hanging on the ceiling, much like the ones her father had bought her when she was younger—those fake, glow-in-the-dark stars that light up the ceilings of children long forgotten. But her father is dead. And this is college. There are no stars left for her here. 

  
  


Hope stills. She mirrors every one of Josie’s emotions.

  
  


“I’m sorry it took me so long to stop trying to hurt you all the time.”

  
  


Hope gets a flashback of harsh words, yelling, and words that had bled her ears and drenched the life out of them. Words that had put life _into_ them.

  
  


The taller girl closes her eyes. A tear falls down her cheek to her lips, soaking it.

  
  


“It’s like I was obsessed with it,” Josie says. “All I wanted to do was make you jealous, to make you hurt, to make you responsible for something...for anything.”

  
  


It’s every word Hope’s self had wanted to hear two months ago. It’s so, so much.

  
  


“—To make you responsible for making me _feel_ things, for making me doubt myself all the time, for not enjoying life anymore just for the reason that we were fighting. Fighting! Like idiots.”

Josie laughs wetly and it is only now that she wipes at her cheeks, wiping the tears from her face. Hope lies back down, looking up at the ceiling, too. She connects her left hand with Josie’s right. Their fingers lock.

  
  


“Hope, I was awful to you.”

  
  


Momentarily, Hope wonders where this is coming from. Did Josie take a sudden trip down memory lane? Their old fights had been disregarded in Hope’s mind. She had forgotten coming home to her dorm room and seeing Josie and Penelope lip-locked, hugging, or cuddling with each other. She had forgotten seeing the two girls with each other constantly, haunting Hope everywhere she went—out with friends, to restaurants, hangouts, classes. Hope Mikaelson had forgotten every remark, every ounce of poison that had once spilled from Josie’s lips.

  
  


She had never once forgotten her own cruelty, though. Love is fucked up in that way. Blinding in that way.

  
  


Hope shakes her head, she can’t keep thinking about the l-word. Confessing her love for Josie has been on her mind all day. She tries to joke, tries to make Josie stop crying, “If it makes you feel better, I was awful to you, too.”

  
  


Josie pushes her slightly, but Hope can see the way her lips upturn. Josie seems to forget herself, and this once again causes the smile to drop from her face. “Even after I hurt you so much, why did you continue to talk to me?”

  
  


Hope doesn’t move.

  
  


How does she answer that?

  
  


_I wanted to be close to you, no matter what way._

  
  


_I didn’t care what you made me feel, I just loved that you made me feel something._

  
  


_You were like a drug and I couldn’t get enough._

  
  


“It was easier to ignore the pain and the jealousy, to ignore what I thought was a relationship between you and...Penelope, to ignore how much you _hated_ me,” Hope says, and she clears her throat. Her throat feels scraped raw. “It was easier to ignore all of it, than to ignore you.”

  
  


She swallows again. It feels harder. She puts a hand to her throat, rubbing at the skin of it.

  
  


“I wanted to be next to you. For a while, I thought it was just about proximity or something, but now I know it wasn’t ever about that.” Hope doesn’t mention a word about how she hasn’t been close romantically with anyone in a while. Not for a year.

  
  


“What was it about?” Josie asks and her right hand disconnects from Hope’s to graze underneath the auburn-haired girl’s sweatshirt.

  
  


_I’m in love with you_.

  
  


Hope freezes. Does she say it? Is now the time? Is now the _perfect_ time?

  
  


Are these the words Josie wants to hear? Is that what she expected to hear by asking that question?

  
  


“Something changed,” Hope murmurs after a quick moment and her eyes stay glued to the ceiling. Courage isn’t a moment’s flash; Josie deserves more than a statement whispered at the end of the night.

  
  


Much, much more.

  
  


“What changed?” Her roommate whispers, curling into Hope’s side.

  
  


Hope kisses her.

-

  
  


The next morning is a fucking headache. Hope gets a call from her aunt, who lets her know that she and Elijah have arrived safely at the airport. The three have a scheduled brunch at a restaurant near the university and the auburn-haired girl wakes up early with Josie to attend their Economics lecture together.

  
  


Well, they wake up a bit late.

  
  


The chaos starts at eight o’clock. Hope is woken up by Josie, who is shaking her and yelling at the same time. “Hope. Get up. Hope. Please, get up.”

  
  


Hope pushes her away, immediately sitting up. She groans, “What time is it?”

  
  


The both of them didn’t get a large amount of sleep last night...for obvious reasons.

  
  


“It’s eight-twenty,” Josie yells from the bathroom, a toothbrush in her mouth already. The bathroom door slams shut while Hope jumps out of bed. She moves towards her dresser, grabbing clothes and putting them on quickly.

  
  


They arrive outside the door of their class exactly six minutes later.

  
  


“I’ll go in first and then you go in three minutes later so it doesn’t look weird,” Josie offers, an encouraging smile blistered across her face. Hope peeks into the classroom, ducking back after a second.

  
  


“So I can be more late than you are?” Hope frowns. She shakes her head, “I don’t think so.”

  
  


After a moment, Hope adds, “Plus, if we walk in minutes within each other, it already looks weird.”

  
  


“Oh! Solved it. I’ll just go in and you won’t,” Josie makes way for the door, “I’ll let you copy my notes later. Bye, baby!”

  
  


The empty hallway echoes the girl’s words.

  
  


Josie kisses the auburn-haired girl’s cheek, a slight smirk on her face, and then goes into the classroom. Hope doesn’t have enough time to stop her. Hope frowns.

  
  


She bangs her head against the wall.

  
  


-

  
  


Hope arrives at the breakfast location early and finds that her uncle and aunt are also early. They wave her down and she smiles, moving towards the white-clothed table.

  
  


She hugs her uncle Elijah first, and then her aunt. They all sit down with wide smiles on their faces. Her uncle brings a glass to his lips and then sets it down, “I hope your first class went well, Hope.”

  
  


Hope grimaces. It actually didn’t go...at all.

  
  


“I’m really learning a lot here,” she says instead, locking eyes with Elijah, who nods in approval. Her nerves calm down entirely. Elijah’s eyes never fail to do so. His eyes spare the comfort of a thousand hugs.

  
  


“We’re glad,” Aunt Freya smiles.

  
  


For the next ten minutes, the conversation stays pleasant and Hope feels herself become happy all over again. The past couple of days have added to that. She loves to spend time with them, but after she finishes the orange juice in her glass, the conversation stiffens.

  
  


Elijah clears his throat and him and Freya make eye-contact.

  
  


“What?” Hope furrows her eyebrows. She darts her eyes back and forth between the pair in front of her. She clears her own throat, too, “Wasn’t there something you wanted to talk to me about?”

  
  


“Why, yes,” Elijah nods, his face carrying that same seriousness Hope has seen before.

  
  


_Uh, oh._

  
  


“We were thinking it’d be good for you to start getting more involved,” Elijah says when Freya fails to murmur a word. The older woman looks away guiltily. The man grimaces, “After silence from the Mikaelson family for so long...we’d think it’d be best you start showing your face more. For the business. It’s important to make connections at your age. We need to introduce you to all our financers, operation specialists, the regional partners, especially the...”

  
  


He continues to talk, but Hope hears absolutely nothing. The words bleed into rambling and echoes in her ears. None of it translates, so she takes a deep breath. Her eyes brim with tears of anger. She hears the words as if underwater and wonders if she has already started crying. It can’t be. Not when she doesn’t feel it. Shit, she’s so numb.

  
  


Shaking her head, she looks up at the ceiling, trying to keep her tears at bay.

  
  


Uncle Elijah still continues, “The quicker you learn, the easier it will be to transition after college, Hope.”

  
  


How can his voice be so sweet but heartbreaking at the same time?

  
  


Hope’s eyes fall to her aunt. Her aunt smiles shyly at her, encouraging even, “It starts with you. We trust you so, so much and we know you’ll be amazing, sweetheart. We need to be taking advantage of the market b—”

  
  


The short Mikaelson heir nods, cutting the blonde off. Her voice is emotionless almost, as if resolute to her fate, “What do you have in mind?”

  
  


The two siblings lock eyes, smiling excitedly at each other.

  
  


Hope doesn’t feel their excitement.

  
  


“There is a work event a month from now, celebrating the end of the year and acknowledging all of the firms’ hard-work over the past few months. Especially after how hard this last year has been for all of us,” he adds the last part hesitantly and bites his lower lip. “Think of it as a party...if you will.”

  
  


Freya butts in, “But a _fancy_ party, Hope. Not those disgusting...things…you go to your friends with.”

  
  


Hope chuckles shortly, making eye-contact with Freya, “Maya tells you too much.”

  
  


“She tells me enough.”

  
  


_What the fuck does that mean?_

  
  


They smooth back into playful conversation, though Elijah turns the conversation back to business multiple times, despite Freya’s effort to stop it. After a few minutes of it, Hope thinks she could care less about it. Hope knows Elijah’s heart lies truly with his family. He’s always favored family over business.

  
  


“Oh! We forgot to tell you,” Freya highers her voice in barely concealed enthusiasm. She reaches her hand over to Hope’s, grabbing it with excitement. She shakes the girl from the other side of the table, even knocking over a small cup. “You’re free to bring someone with you.”

  
  


Hope raises her eyebrows, suddenly feeling very interested. Her first thought is Josie. She sighs sadly.

  
  


“I recommend your brunette friend,” Elijah mentions out of nowhere, sipping on his tea. Hope narrows her eyes at him, staring blankly at the two.

  
  


_Wait...what?_

  
  


_Does he know?_

  
  


Hope doesn’t say anything, only quirking her eyebrow up in fake confusion. A smirk plasters itself on Freya’s face and Hope ignores eye-contact with the woman.

  
  


“Maya?” Elijah asks, “Or even her brother works.”

  
For some odd reason, Aunt Freya frowns at her brother’s words.

  
  


“Oh!” Hope immediately feels relief. For a second, it seems easier to breathe. “Of course I knew that’s what you meant.”

  
  


Her uncle nods, though he throws her a strange look. Freya shakes her head, as if in protest of her brother’s suggestions. A smile forms on her face and it’s too sly of one for Hope to overlook it.

  
  


“But, of course, you can take anyone you want.”

  
  


-

  
  


It’s later that afternoon when Hope is dragged to go on a shopping trip with Maya and Sam, straight to the state’s fashion island. It’s an hour away but when they reach the outlets, it seems worth it.

  
  


At least to Maya.

  
  


Hope doesn’t even need new clothes, not that she’s entirely complaining. She hasn’t gone shopping in a while. “Where do you guys want to go first?” Maya asks as soon as they enter, but doesn’t even wait for an answer as she pulls into one direction.

  
  


Hope and Sam follow closely behind her, laughing at the image of an excited Maya.

  
  


They go inside a shoe store. Hope wavers at the door for a second, hesitant to go in. Last time they went into a shoe store, Sam had dared Maya to wear the highest pair of heels—with a thirteen inch platform—and things didn’t go quite well. Though Maya has incredible experience with heels, as all the girls do, she had fallen on her first step. And landed on one of the store’s glass tables, breaking it into two halves.

  
  


Maya pouts. “Hope, just come in. I won’t do it again. I promise.”

  
  


Hope laughs in her face, thinking about Maya falling again. Over and over again.

  
  


Twenty minutes later, Hope is carrying two of Maya’s bags. They head into a different store and it’s in the changing room when Sam screams dramatically.

  
  


“It’s _so_ ugly. Oh my god! Get it off of me. Hope!”

  
  


Hope peeks in from the outside of the curtain. She frowns, looking her friend up and down, “No it isn’t.”

  
  


“Stop lying to me,” Sam frowns and...are those tears going down her face? Hope’s friend smooths it down herself and Hope goes in, seeing Maya in the corner of the room on her phone. Why isn’t _she_ helping?

  
  


“Hope, just unzip me,” Sam pathetically whines, and Hope does just that. Then, she sits next to Maya on the little cushion of the chair and stares at her own reflection in the mirror.

  
  


She distantly thinks to text Josie.

  
  


Sam puts on a skirt and pairs it with a cute white polo that has long sleeves. She rolls them up, fixing her hair slightly. She glances at the pair on the chair, “What do you guys think?”

  
  


“Cute.”

  
  


“Cute.”

  
  


“You guys aren’t even looking at me.”

  
  


Hope narrows her eyes, does a double-take at Sam’s outfit, then mumbles again, “Cute.”

  
  


She takes Sam’s phone from her purse and raises her eyebrows, waving the phone in her hand, “Want me to take a picture for Ethan?”

  
  


It’s mostly a joke, but Sam doesn’t laugh. The three of them haven’t really talked about her relationship with Ethan yet. Are they even in a serious relationship?

  
  


“Wait. Will you?” Sam asks, sincere and not an ounce of humor in her tone. Maya looks up right away, staring directly at the girl with confusion.

  
  


The Machado twin tucks the back of Sam’s shirt into her skirt, helping for the picture, and then steps away, “What’s going on with you two?”

  
  


“Would it be wrong if there _was_ something going on?” Sam pushes her breasts up, cupping her bra. Hope shakes her head at the gesture. All for a fucking picture. She gets it, though.

  
  


“No,” Maya says, “I think it’s cute.”

  
  


She smoothes down the wrinkles and Hope fixes Sam’s hair again. She backs up, takes just about fifty pictures before letting Sam pick through them.

  
  


“How serious are you two?” Hope wonders, pulling on the jeans she forgot she had brought in the room with her. She buckles the button, pulling the zipper up, too. 

  
  


Sam deflects.

  
  


“How serious are you and Saltzman?” The girl effortlessly says back without even looking at Hope—her eyes still scrolling through the photo album. Hope coughs on air.

  
  


Her voice goes high, and she tries to lie, tries to change the conversation, “I hate Lizzie, you know that.”

  
  


She looks in the mirror to distract herself, ultimately liking the reflection that greets her. The jeans fit _perfectly_. Hope turns around. Her ass looks good, too. 

  
  


She looks up, confronted by both Maya and Sam’s hot glares. The auburn-haired girl freezes, and doesn’t miss the way Maya blocks the exit of the curtain. She gasps, coming to a last conclusion, “You two trapped me in here on purpose.”

  
  


Maya and Sam high-five in front of Hope’s face.

  
  


The shorter girl stomps her foot like a fucking child. “There’s nothing, now let me out or I will—”

  
  


“You’re not as threatening as you used to be, Hopey,” Maya mutters out and she looks at Sam for agreement. Sam spares all of it.

  
  


“Yep. Not at all threatening.”

  
  


Hope sits down on the chair under the harsh stares of her two best friends. She almost wants to laugh. This is ridiculous. Fingering the holes in the new pair of jeans she’s wearing, Hope contemplates surrendering. The whole day she’s been wanting to talk about Josie. She’s been wanting to vent, wanting to talk about the whole work party, too.

  
  


Her thoughts are a constant of Josie. Why can’t her tongue share the same inclination?

  
  


“Okay, so we might’ve kissed,” Hope relents.

  
  


“We knew that already,” Sam and Maya say at exactly the same time. They high-five each other again, too. Crap. Hope really forgot how much she told Maya and how much Sam might’ve grasped from it as well.

  
  


“Uh, okay,” Hope pouts. “We might’ve had sex, too?”

  
  


Maya fucking squeals in excitement.

  
  


Sam’s mouth hangs wide open before she laughs, “That’s not what we were asking about, but okay.”

  
  


An employee knocks on the wall next to the curtain outside. “Is everything okay in there girls?”

  
  


“No, please help, I’m being held hostage—”

  
  


Maya’s hand covers her mouth.

  
  


“Yes, we’re amazing! Thank you so much!” Sam shouts over it all, peeking her head outside to smile at the woman, who looks sort of angry. The girl then pulls Maya off of Hope, staring at the girl unusually before saying, “Are you guys together?”

  
  


“No? Yes?” Hope’s face falls. She hasn’t had this conversation with Josie yet. They aren’t officially girlfriends, but Hope likes to think they are. They’ve been on dates, they spend all the time in the word with each other—whenever Josie isn’t at work, that is. She frowns, “Wait. I actually don’t know.”

  
  


“You don’t know?” Maya puts a hand to her face, like the situation is giving her one severe headache. “How don’t you know? Have you asked her?”

  
  


“No.”

  
  


“Are you planning on asking her?”

  
  


“Why do I have to?” Hope groans and she looks to Sam for saving, but the girl looks just as mad.

  
  


“Why are you thinking of this as a bad thing?” Sam asks. “If you guys like each other, why won’t you make it official? You don’t even have to tell anyone it’s official.”

  
  


“I’m scared.”

  
  


Hope shrinks underneath their stares, she falls a twenty-thousand foot drop—she doesn’t land two feet first. She breaks her legs, anyway.

  
  


“Of what?” Maya stands near the mirror, chewing on one of her fingernails. Sam swats her hand.

  
  


“Just because we’re a secret doesn’t mean she wants to be a _secret_ officially,” Hope says finally. Her phone buzzes in her pocket and the only reason she wants to check it is to see if it’s Josie.

  
  


“I think you’re thinking about this all wrong, Hope.”

  
  


“No. It’s too soon to even ask her,” the auburn-haired girl pulls off of her jeans, tugging them down her feet. She folds the item, hanging it back up. She’ll buy it.

  
  


Hope and Josie have been civil for only days. They might kiss all the time—which Hope loves—and they might talk all the time—Hope loves that, too—but does a few days of time justify the finality of such a declaration? A whole-ass relationship. A true, real relationship.

  
  


But isn’t that what she and Josie have reached, anyway?

  
  


After a second of silence, Hope continues, “It’s too soon to tell her.”

  
  


She looks down at the floor. A sigh threatens to fall from her lips. Her eyes glaze over and for a second she realizes just what she has said. She has spilled too much and her friends have heard it.

  
  


Her friends realize it all the same and gasp, their breaths becoming one. Two of her friends instantly turn to her, grinning like madwomen with wide-eyes.

  
  


“You love her, don’t you?” Maya eyes the young Mikaelson in front of her.

  
  


Hope’s tongue doesn’t move. Her heart speaks, instead. No—it doesn’t speak. It screams.

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


This time, it’s Sam who fucking shrieks.

  
  


-

  
  


After getting kicked out of the store, the three girls make it through a department store. A small, smooth throw blanket catches Hope’s eye—it’s a light brown color, almost tan, and there are teddy bears littered throughout the fabric. It reminds Hope of a lullaby Josie had once sung.

  
  


She thinks about the lyrics, can’t come up with the title, and ends up looking it up.

  
_Teddy Bear’s Picnic, Henry Hall & His Orchestra_

  
  


She smiles.

  
  


It elicits a memory of just a few nights ago. Hope had caught the girl singing the lullaby.

  
  


She now wants to know why. When she gets home, the auburn-haired girl thinks she’ll ask Josie.

  
  


Yes. She’ll definitely ask Josie.

  
  


She buys the blanket, ignores Maya’s and Sam’s smiles, and flips them off. She tucks it into one of her five bags.

  
  


The group makes it back to the college four hours later, easily running past curfew. Well, there isn’t an imposed curfew anymore, but Hope still feels weird getting back so late. The walk to Hope’s dorm room is made a bit harder by all of the bags of clothes she’s carrying.

  
  


She checks the time: 11:56.

  
  


Josie should be back from work.

  
  


She opens the door, with much trouble, and finds that their room is dark and empty.

  
  


Hope reaches for her phone and finds Josie’s messages. The girl hadn’t once told her she’d be back late or something. She tries not to focus on it, taking a shower and organizing her clothes in the small closet she still isn’t exactly used to.

  
  


Josie’s blanket stays tucked in there, hiding behind Hope’s clothes.

  
  


It’s twenty minutes later when the door opens, Josie herself is carrying her school bag and a few work-related items—her cap and apron. Hope gets up, helping her immediately.

  
  


“Hey,” Hope greets her right away, “I didn’t know you were scheduled for so late.”

  
  


Josie kisses her for a second and Hope misses it already when she pulls away.

  
  


“I didn’t know I was scheduled for so late, either,” she says quietly with a huge frown, throwing her backpack on the floor. It lands harshly. Hope looks forlornly at the bag. Ouch.

  
  


“My manager asked me to stay until after closing because we had a big rush at eleven, so I felt too bad and didn’t want to say no,” Josie lies down on her bed, closing her eyes already. She looks incredibly tired and she tears her shoes off before placing her feet on her bed as well.

  
  


“Don’t you want to take a shower or something?” Hope sits next to her, dressed in her hoodie and plaid pajama pants. Her face is freshly scrubbed and her hair still wet from her shower. It suddenly feels very, very cold. She clasps her hands together, trying to give Josie space, trying not to reach out and bombard her.

  
  


Josie whips her head around quickly, quipping, “That’s offensive. Are you just trying to make me feel worse?” She groans, falling back onto the pillow again. The brunette inhales sharply through her nose.

  
  


No. Hope isn’t trying to do that at all.

  
  


“It’s just a question, babe,” Hope softly assures her, leaning down to peck Josie on the lips. The use of the term of endearment completely slips from her mind. Hope doesn’t think she’s _ever_ called anyone that before seriously. It remotely reminds her of her father and her uncle Elijah. She’s caught them using the word on more than one occasion.

  
  


“I don’t feel like I can even move,” Josie huffs, wrapping her arms around her body, essentially hugging herself. It’s insanely adorable. She leans up after a second, a mischievous smile breaking across her face, “Have you taken a shower already?”

  
  


“No. My hair is wet because I went to go play in the mud,” Hope deadpans sarcastically, but cracks a smile herself a few seconds, anyway, “No, but I’m serious. You should take a shower.”

  
  


“You’re right,” Josie complies, getting up slowly. She lingers by the bathroom door for the longevity of thirty seconds, as if pondering something. She doesn’t even open the door. Hope thinks it’s strange. Very, very strange.

  
  


“Need something?” Hope asks, ready to get towels if need be. She thought she saw plenty earlier there, though. She moves over to her desk, tiredly organizing her materials for her three classes tomorrow. It’s what she gets for only having one today.

  
  


“Join me?”

  
  


Hope blinks. Suddenly, she isn’t so tired anymore.

  
  


_Think straight. Think straight._

  
  


“I thought you were tired,” Hope argues weakly. Pathetic. How pathetic she is.

  
  


“I am,” Josie says innocently. Her smile makes Hope’s stomach drop. She can’t look away from the brunette’s lips when she says, “But I can barely stand so...I need your help. Help me?”

  
  


“Well, if we showered together, I’d doubt you’d be able to stand anyway—”

  
  


“Hope, just get in the fucking bathroom.”

  
  


-

  
  


“That feels _so_ good,” the brunette breathes deeply, her eyes closed. The showerhead runs above them. Hope lathers shampoo in Josie’s hair, massaging the back of her scalp, massaging her shoulders unduly.

  
  


Josie’s natural fragrance has always been one of Hope’s weaknesses—she feels so weak now as she breathes the brunette in. Over and over again. It’s too much and not at all enough. 

  
  


Her scent is so _there_ , Hope can all but taste her. Josie stands as still as ever, permitting Hope to do everything for her. It’s a little ironic, but Hope isn’t really in that state of mind right now. No. She’s entirely focused on other things.

  
  


The auburn-haired girl’s hands itch to touch skin and so she does just that—she hugs Josie from behind, her naked frontside rubbing against Josie’s back.

  
  


Hope’s skin buzzes with desire. The next time she moves her hands, it’s only wantonly. She lightly strokes Josie’s lower stomach, touching just above. Her lips kiss across Josie’s left shoulder, barely touching. She wonders how Josie feels it—if it feels like a burn, or if it feels like a thousand meteors have struck her dead.

  
  


She wonders if Josie can even feel her lips at all. The showerhead thunders down on them.

  
  


“That feels good, too,” the taller girl mumbles, and her voice has become remarkably huskier. Hope smiles against her shoulder, touching Josie everywhere but nowhere truly—if her hand on Josie’s stomach swiped higher, she’d feel Josie’s hard nipples, if her hand dropped slightly lower, she’d feel Josie’s—

  
  


“Touch me, please,” her roommate whimpers, making Hope’s breath hitch, and for a second Hope wants to get Josie to beg, wants Josie to be _willing_ to beg. Her desire to touch the girl further, to please her, stops any of that.

  
  


Josie’s head tilts back slightly, resting a little bit on Hope’s shoulder. Hope’s eyes darken with the new view of the brunette’s neck. The Mikaelson heir harshly bites down and then soothes the area with her tongue, placing soft kisses along the expanse of the brunette’s neck. 

  
  


Josie cants up and when her hips find friction against _nothing_ , she turns quickly around with dark, hungry eyes, her hot gaze smoldering Hope’s face.

  
  


Hope feels burned, her insides turning into gasoline. The fire lingers.


End file.
